Myrna Loy

Let me stay with you a while and tell old, old stories
Of your oft electric laughter and your charms
How you came out of Montana with a wolf pup at your heels
And a snow white rabbit huddled in your arms
In the darkness, in the darkness
In the darkness
Remember, hey, those Gold Rush days are the gold dust in the mud
From Main St. leading all the way to Alder
With sunset turned the color of a lover’s throated blush
And with moonrise, blazed some new and silver river
In the darkness, in the darkness
In the darkness
The minister was bloodless and the preachers were on fire
And mahātmās sang their love songs in nasturtiums
But if he, or they, or any of their masters called my name
I was in your holy temple and never heard them
In the darkness, in the darkness
In the darkness
Remember, hey, those Gold Rush days, some last chance ghost saloon
And you, and I, and all the miners watching
As shadows danced across a screen as quiet as the moon
Without sound if you’re resignifying all things
The whole town was alive that night as we floated down the street
Through fist fights, cowboy police, parlor women
And the light from the projector seemed to grow within your soul
Like an old bull-throated songbird in its prison
In the darkness, in the darkness
In the darkness
They’re tearing down the movies now, not a stone upon a stone
All dust is dust no matter how celestial
But I, who tasted hornet juice and honey on the rose
Would you survive for all their cold memorials?
Still every now and then sometimes when the night sky gets so bright
And no Bethlehem of stars could match its burning
I go out into the fields until I can feel you by my side
And my memory is a book of gold thrown open
And you rode a white horse, the queen of the harvest kissed your cheek
The boys all took one look and found that they could no longer speak
In the darkness, in the darkness
In the darkness