Many seasons I have seen
That bring an April shower
Yet now in this deep wilderness
I feel the dying flower

The festive spirit all but gone
And spring is still so far
I suffer myself to pace the road
I feel I'm under par

It's close to midnight as I go
My shadow growing longer
By light of moon I pace my steps
A hunger getting stronger

I know a small vicinity
Where coffee smells are strong
So there I wander to forget
The dirges in my song.

Upon occasion I could sing
With resonance and tone
And as I sit with piping mug
I rest my flesh and bone.

I sit alone the corner has
The waiter...