You haven't found it yet,Haven't found it yet.
Look at the glass, turn your headYou haven't found
it yet.Moving down the lane insideIt's flashy camden
townIt's that london lyric againYou haven't found it
yet.Impulses crowd your headToo much to be absorbedYou're
into the top shackleMental saw-down of your head.
*Which bemoans a simple fact.
You haven't found it yet.It seemed so clear in bedIt's
dark but your legs, they are deadYour pen is encombed
in mattressYou're not going to get it yetYou haven't
found it yetYou're dying but still warmPut this writing
on your tombSpit out with dying breathYou haven't found
it yet.I dictateTranscribeRelationsDear cousinIt's
destiny.The grist that curtails the millShall make us strong