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