The Mansion

There's no end, there's no glory, there's a slow resounding story
There's no place to feel certain, there's nobody waiting for me
There's no stand of trees, no morning, there's a curve without a warning
There's weird and lasting sadness, there's no large and lengthy warming
There's no heat, there's no expansion, there's no door into the mansion
Lengthy warming, sweet removal, sweet expanse, sweet and substantial
There's no flesh, there's no fingers in my hair, I see a tunnel
We built walls, tall and solid between the treasure and the shovel
I see and I see a fountain, there's a trail over the mountain
There's no wayside, there's no stopping and the peak is wide and rocky
There's no ceiling in the mansion, there's no waste, no hesitation
There's no crack of dawn, no morning, just an everlasting warming