Extinguish the massed choirs.
Stamp out each of my desires.
Tonight the fire must die,
Without a single murmured "why?"

No! You cannot kill this dove,
You must not murder naive love
For innocence's value lies
In simple hope and wide-eyed "why?s"

The fireworks are my wildest dreams,
Yet in amongst their flashbulb scenes
Is one where I myself explode
To bitter splinters in the road.