AN ARUNDEL TOMB

[Intro Epic Saxophone Riff] [Verse] Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess LIE IN STONE, Their proper habits vaguely shown As jointed armour, stiffened pleat, And that faint hint of the absurd— (The little dogs under their feet). [Intro Riff - Acoustic] Such plainness of the PRE-BAROQUE Hardly involves the eye, until It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still Clasped empty in the other; and One sees, with a SHARP tender shock, His hand withdrawn, HOLDING HER HAND. [Guitar Solo A] They would not THINK to lie so long. Such FAITHFULNESS in effigy Was just a detail friends would see: A sculptor’s SWEET commissioned grace Thrown off in helping to prolong The LATIN NAMES around the base. [Guitar Turnaround, with drums] They would not GUESS how early in Their SUPINE stationary voyage The air would change to SOUNDLESS damage, (Turn the old tenantry away) How soon SUCCEEDING EYES begin To LOOK, not REED. RIGIDLY they [Guitar Solo B, Saxophone riff] Persisted, LINKED, through lengths and breadths (Of time. Snow fell, undated)... Light Each summer thronged the glass. A bright Litter of birdcalls strewed the same Bone-riddled ground. And up the paths The endless ALTERED people came, [Guitar Turnaround, with drums] They would not GUESS how early in Their SUPINE stationary voyage The air would change to SOUNDLESS damage, (Turn the old tenantry away) How soon SUCCEEDING EYES begin To LOOK, not REED. RIGIDLY they [Guitar Solo B, Saxophone riff] Persisted, LINKED, through lengths and breadths (Of time. Snow fell, undated)... Light Each summer thronged the glass. A bright Litter of birdcalls strewed the same Bone-riddled ground. And up the paths The endless ALTERED people came, [Outro Riff, Muted Drums] Washing at their IDENTITY. Now, HELPLESS in the hollow of An unarmorial age, a trough Of smoke in slow suspended skeins Above their SCRAP of history, ONLY AN ATTITUDE remains: [Saxophone Solo] Time has TRANSFIGURED them into UNTRUTH. The stone FIDELITY They hardly meant has come to be Their final BLAZON, and to prove Our ALMOST-INSTINCT almost true: What will SURVIVE of us is LOVE. [Rhodes piano and Blues Guitar Solo] [Chorus] [Drum Solo] [Outro] [Rhodes piano and Blues Guitar Solo] [Chorus] [Drum Solo] [Outro]