During my fever I lay in my fathers last bed 

I was sweating from every pore 

What a fever this was this was

What a wonderful fever this was  

I was soon aware that a giant 

Had entered my room with a theatre 

He was as naked as I was naked 

I admired his massive body 

He opened my pale curtains 

And directed me towards the dripping moon 

I was soon at the window with a rare camera 

Trying to gain a likeness a perfect likeness 

Of the wonders of the night moon in all its youth 

When I turned around there were four people 

In the room of my fevered dreams 

The wore the clothes of the sea 

And were busily preparing a liquid stage 

I stared at the opposite wall and noted 

That my father and grandfather were writing 

Silent love songs to their distant friends