These are almost the words
I intended to say,
this so nearly makes sense.
Although the cut's too close for comfort
language goes eventually astray.

There goes the neighbourhood
under the flood
and comprehension's culled and clustered
round the sudden onrush of hot blood.

And in imprecision
we are all lost for words.

All lost, alas, alack,
all points alarm,
sounding out the sweet sargasso
sea of language we are all becalmed.

So close, almost the words
but nearly isn't clear and drains our
understanding of the overheard.

In incomprehension
we are all lost for words,
all at last lost for words,
all at last's lost,
we are all lost for words.

At last you come round to believe what you heard
as circumstance found you lost for words.
The secret's unspoken, the sense is absurd,
the safety net's broken, lost for words.