As Lucerne / The Low

There is no blues that can sound quite as heartfelt as mine
Lamented at the gorge of the river
I watched it weep its banks dry
I hum the sorriest tune on the bar at these dives
Send all the patrons running home
To make up with their first wives

But the low
And to bask
But the low
And to bask

My prose is purple but not as pretty as Lucerne
For sweet nothings from the lips of a gargoyle
Nobody ever yearned
Perpetually a philistine, but darling I am longing to learn
Been looked at like the rotten grape on the vine
While you and yours are drinking Sauternes

(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore
(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore
(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore
(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore
I do adore, I do adore, I do adore

I am the magpie's solo, the sorrow that makes you salute
Pounding the earth for the early worm
I am a glutton but it's good for my glutes
I was solace to the sirens, the bait on the fisherman's rod
The hook took me far from my family, but closer to God

(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore
(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore
(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore
(But the low) is what I came for
(And to bask) in a darkness I do adore

But the low is what I came for
But the low is what I came here for
But the low is what I came for
But the low is what I came here for