I was blinded. Yes, I was blinded, and the tender touch that said so much doesn't need me now. I was blinded, how I was blinded. When I think about h… - John Miles Foley

Misty silence of the early morning.
All around another day is dawning.
Goodbyes ain't easy,
so no-one sees me when I go.
Only time is gonna last forever.
Just remember what we had together.
I must be leavin'
and I can't even let it show.
I am on my way,
Remember Yesterday.

Buildings tower round me like they're waiting for the kill.
For days I haven't eaten and I really do feel ill.
If I cry for help, would you hear my call?
If I stumble now, would you let me fall?
Won't you give me a hand,
try to understand
that I'm a stranger in the city?
Stuck inside these streets it's like a human traffic jam.
People walk right over me, now they don't give a damn.
If I ask for death, would you give me a gun?
If I took your hand, would you turn and run?
Won't you pity me, just try to see
that I'm a stranger in the city?

To put it most simply, the oral traditional idiom persisted because—even in a written incarnation—it offered the only avenue to the immanent poetic tradition, the invisible but ever-present aesthetic context for all of the poems.