Canon : In Canon

There is a faint glow of eastern blue
Whirring with hues of warmth
The warbling song sparrows
Ignore my mourning

Languidly, I turn over
And I am limp in somber hope
Soberly, I salvage
I forage aned cull
What is left of my sum
What is left of my sum
What is left of my sum

I can only call up a vague hum of a hymn
I cannot wholly hear
And the lingering regret of wasted song
And melody not quite clear
Melody not quite clear
(Melody not quite clear)