Frances Quinlan
What the Writer Meant
Gold, alone, clinging to a stem
Pretty soon, this will be a skeleton
Metropolises, before- silent and smouldering
Above, the wild giant wailed, "Never will I do that again!"

So strange (so strange, so strange)
To be shaped by such strange men
Elizabeth, explain what the writer meant

That God is the one (God is the one, God is the one) who changed
(God is the one, God is the one, God is the one who changed)

The General- bucktoothed, bright eyed, frothing red
Baltimore- you on the floor, me on the edge of the bed
We saw him, in one brutal gesture, tear that rabbit open
And you turned to me, "Isn't this supposed to be for children?"

So strange (so strange, so strange)
To be shaped by such strange moments
Elizabeth, the train
When will I see you again?

Will you tell me your mind (tell me your mind, tell me that your mind) has changed?
(Tell me your mind, tell me that your mind has changed.)

So strange
Was I shaped for just this moment?
Elizabeth, explain what the writer meant