through the days of no repose / and endless journeys through the files / I fed on melancholy tones / carried on these yearning sighs / "Troop home to silent grots and caves! Troop home! and mimic as you go / The mournful winding of the waves / which to their dark abysses flow" (George Darley) / this sweet white-collar mermaid's song / drew white cloud o'er my inward eye / from 8 to 4 the same lush score / her office hours lullaby / "Troop home to silent grots and caves! Troop home! and mimic as you go / The mournful winding of the waves / which to their dark abysses flow" (George Darley) / now none of her delicious bits / can make up for my slaughtered wits / her lips her tits they work no more / what have you done you sorry whore
