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Pale Fire
by
David Foster
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Dear Molly Bragen, is your hair still soft and long? Do you still laugh at silly things And do you sing my favorite song? These words may shock you, this letter's overdue I know I left without a word But I had to see it through These words may shock you, this letter's overdue It's black outside, the fire's so dim And my plans, they've have fallen through I've been a vagabond, and I've seen the Paris lights I walk down empty streets, and yet I see your face each night In the pale fire, the ashes of the moon It stirs the embers of my brain, kind of like the devil's spoon In the pale fire, the ashes of the moon It drives me to your door again, and puts a shadow 'cross my room Whoa, would you laugh at me? Would you tear this in disgust? Should I bear this hand, or should I burn this letter up? In the pale fire, the ashes of the moon If you might find some time for me I'll try to find some time for you I guess it's time to close, I wish I had a closing line I ain't got nothing more to say, and I've probably wasted time And though I'd like to hold you, and call your gentle name I'm such a fool, this fire's cool, and the wood's all soaked with rain And though I'd like to hold you, and call your gentle name I think I'll send this letter straight to hell Let it meet its maker's flame Let the fires rage on, and let them cure these twisted hands I'm so sorry, Molly Bragen, but I know you'll understand
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