When every song has has been sang, when all rhythm becomes one,
when the melodies have gone flat,
Each and every cord has been played and the strings have all been strung
When all configurations of all music depleted
the choir’s harmony lost
When all the bright golden angels of our nature have rusted and dimmed
And all and every demon bled thin
When all the lyrics have been written and every word sang
When all of the combinations of music
of all the world’s, of all of the peoples,
of all the universes, of every string, of all reality,
of all time
Have been strummed, then all things, all of time, all of everything/everywhere, the end of all things has finally come
©️ Jacob Pickard.2026.
