They have all gone under the hill

Little Anthony and Bobby Vee

Who sang all the day long marvellous harmonies

Their cymbal, and their brush, and ambling four-four beat

Played out an art, extolled the part, of old romance

Sad Lesley Gore, and Dion di Muci, of The Wanderer,

All passions lively once; now sudden late

And who can overmatch those household tunes

Of Ketty Lester, or joyous Curtis Lee

And fabulous in style, the rare Phil Everly

With brother Don; together famously

Made ecstasies age-old on teenage griefs

Whose throne Roy Orbison alone, lonely, might reach

And sunny days with sorrows sing, so feelingly to breach

Thus have all carolled blithe with song, chansoned their precious place

And gone into utter darkness; so the pensive whippoorwill

Minimalist, lieder fashion, imitates their passing lights

Singing in darkness, waymarking our several selves goodnights