The end of Beauty

That's the end of Beauty
The tram has turned
On its pretty-polly rails
Down a shadowed road

That's the sun left behind
Its over our shoulder
Rolling down the blind
Like down a hill rolls a boulder

And so I guess it must be true
The Danube really it is blue
Or green or brown, as a frown
Depending on the mood
Its passing through

Oh river throw up your arms and wave
Throw your children to the banks to save
Throw back the bottle tops
Rescue the slaves
We are chained to your bridges
Like martyred braves

Danube in the Bayeux
Your weeping willows cry
Leaf tears into your pools
When your river runs dry
But in this Spring season
Lush Green grow their flanks
That they trail in your flow
Like slender arms
Reaching from your banks

Danube is a season, ever changing joy
Restless without reason
The jobless to employ
River business seen to
They go home with thanks