I remember May
When I first met Lizzie May
In the hallowed halls of Spurlock
In the dying days of an age

And in the autumn of my life
Fî Amrîkâ—mish fil-Qâhira—
And what journeys there have been
Before the new world is birthed

Days of storms and poetry
Roses, dim lights, and sweaters
And climbs through forests
Rocks, and riverbeds

So what does it mean,
This new age of earth?

A voyage of life
A journey to Athens
In a wild, whirlwind day