Good-night Garamond
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Good-night Garamond
The flowers have curled tight within
The willow weeps, drooping o'er the river
The leaves have gathered close
The swallow is crying for lost Jenny Wren

Good-night Garamond
Can you hear her song
Do you still smell the bruised petals
Of the spring's first rose?
There are dreams best left unspoken

Good-night Garamond
The angel stole our pretty thing
Gathered her in his wings
Swept her into the evening sky
And let her fall into the sea

Do you understand, Garamond
The meaning of sunset
The feeling of moonlight
The sound of laughter
The touch of steel

Good-night Garamond
Dream not of the angels
Dream of the world yet to be
Dream of the starlight
Dream of her memory

Good-night Garamond
She is no longer here.

3/2/98