The day’s not green, it’s lowering red

 It’s getting dark, the time’s below sub-par,

the air is broken by a monstrous yell

but, unlike Stevens, I’ve no blue guitar 

to answer the hard notes that serve to mar

both sky and sea. Now, under evil spell,

it’s getting dark, the time’s below sub-par,

so I’m now silent. Dragged behind fast car

there’s a black corpse, whose story I should tell,

but, unlike Stevens, I’ve no blue guitar.

If had simply traveled just as far

as the moon journeys, I’d some wisdom sell.

It’s getting dark, the time’s below sub-par,

so, in deep silence, I refight the war

I could not win, the foe I didn’t repel,

but, unlike Stevens, I’ve no blue guitar 

to break this nightfall, and sing down a star

that will illuminate escape from hell.

It’s getting dark, the time’s below sub-par,

but, unlike Stevens, I’ve no blue guitar.