The funicular takes us down to the rocky strand
I put down my camera to take your hand
Behind us rise the cliffs and ahead the sea
It’s no coney island but that’s fine by me
And now we must reap what we’ve sown
The hotel lobby’s cool in the heat of noon
Someone asks for an autograph; we head to the room
The sheets are fresh and your skin is brown
You pour us some wine, I’m tired to the bone
And now we will reap what we’ve sown
In fallow earth no roses will grow
But I’ll take the thistle and the thorn
I’m looking for the man who heard the sirens
Who strapped himself against their magic call
Who railed against the silence, and the storm
The candles at the table tame the dark
Your eyes burn with memories, and the words to a song
Push themselves between us, you catch my pain
There’s only today, you say, and you’re right again
Now we will reap what we’ve sown
In fallow earth no roses will grow
But I’ll take the thistle and the thorn
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