The boulevards of melancholy,

where light drips from the feeble lights
and gales of June are burned alive
the eye that cringes suckles the warmth from the
souls of the pitiless, hearts that beat and bleed
as wants and desires die by concrete fire and
will beside fortitude mauled to an exhausted incentive
'cause the eye that cringes suckles the warmth from the
souls of the penniless, hearts that bleat and grieve
crowded now, here in the boulevards of melancholy