In the deep shadows falling on these ill-fated streets,
in the bittersweet gnawing on tricks and on treats,
in the heat of my calling, in the beat of my feet,
I seek your approval, it’s all that I seek.
In the hostile hangovers, in the hospital blues,
in Dublin or Dover I’ll never refuse.
In the night that it’s over in a wash of vermouth,
I seek your approval, it’s all I can do.
In the hours of waiting, in the nights without sleep,
in keeping from hating the secrets you keep,
in the sounds of parading, somehow still so bleak,
I seek your approval, it’s all that I seek.
In actions not taken for fear of success,
being badly mistaken and all underdressed -
in all of this faking, you’re true, you’re the best.
I seek your approval, oh God, what a mess.
I seek your approval, what else have I sought?
What else have I longed for, why else have I fought?
Though still you hide from me, I sense that you’re near.
I seek your approval; I’ll find it, I fear.
In Shelley and Byron, in Yeats and in Keats,
in the Stoics, the Cynics, the Russian and Greeks,
in each Leaf of Grass, in the words I don’t speak,
I seek your approval, though the prospect seems bleak.
In desperate decisions made haphazardly,
in awkward revisions of bad poetry,
late night television hasn’t shown it to me.
I seek your approval; I’ve heard that it’s free.
In sore-hearted lovers with tongues of disgrace,
under yellow covers, lipstick on my face,
in all of the others, all so unreplaced,
I seep your approval at the end of this race.
In avenues, astrodomes, ashrams and trains,
in cathedrals and telephones, moonlight and rain,
in music and metronomes, and mostly in pain,
I seek your approval, do I seek it in vain?
I seek your approval, on hill and in dale,
in valley, in alley, on each crooked trail.
I’ll seek it forever and I won’t complain.
I seek your approval, do I seek it in vain?