|All Things That Are Are Lights
Lyric by Clive James, music by Pete Atkin
Propane bottles rusting by the rails:
The half-light fails with little left to see.
What thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee.
Cracker-towers climb behind the dunes,
The tankers, the pipe-lines and the dredge:
What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage,
And we must count the harvest of our loss
In memory-grains —
What thou lovest well remains,
The rest is dross.
So let me see it go without a grudge:
When all is gone, the rest is left to me.
What thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee,
What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage.