Print

The wind quartet howls softly My jeep hand strokes her necklace Crusted, crammed with old Etruscan gold. Her bird head torn with summer Inspects a Spartan runner Robbing time a chosen Prince of Speed. My goblet drenched with Autumn Tears for my dead cat Ena Silver Surfer scorcerer of spray. She hooded deep in chartreuse A falcon glimpse of white teeth Separated by lace cinnamon folds. We hid and rid in hansom Cab wrenched from lost Byzantium Lordlett who once held the earth in chains. Aus Songtexte Mania