With questions in clues and short-lighted fuse This last promenade before darker days I'll dance down the stairs with bows in my hair And nobody cares as we creep anywhere at all And all our last attempts have played in present tense And I foresee the ruin of all Well I fit so finely in with the fitting in The lucky winning losing streak With profits and gains the last dying strains Of moonlight are gone, so steady the dawn And it is so strange to be so involved, where nothing's resolved And I don't mind at all