thank god we lasted

thank god we lasted long enough for Astral Weeks
or Virginia Woolf
Like all the misdeeds of humanity
and we still ended up with that guitar line before
Mr. Ramsey reaches the lighthouse and
Lily smiles and he
ventured in the slipstream
Like the chasm between despair and hope can be crossed
with a flute solo
or her stream of consciousness
or maybe the inevitable mushroom cloud
or melted ice sheet
won't even touch that finale
Like we've all been born again
and we've all had our vision
and our own reckless
garbage
can't even bring down that high note
still ringing out