—

Faces along the bar

cling to their average day;

The lights must never go out,

The music must always play

Lest we know who we are,

Lost in a haunted wood,

Children afraid of the dark,

Who have never been happy or good.

from "September, 1939"

—

We would rather be ruined than change,

We would rather die in our dread

Than climb the cross of the moment

And see our illusions die