| Now chased by the shapes of your vows
|
| Look at the things she allows
|
| Junction fever must have closed down the rail
|
| The gluttunous wind keeps on nibbling the sails
|
| Queueing in the ruins in the wake of the gale it’s
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| Harmony I say
|
| Hear the difference between close and near
|
| The way oaths and oafs interfere
|
| Bliss comes first as a jangling flood
|
| Pillow from the old country arrives with a thud
|
| That night she drinks ceremony and mud it’s
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| Happening I say
|
| Must be thirsty, drink, drink, sink, forget
|
| Must be empty inside the shadow cabinet
|
| She offered her chaos to me
|
| Proffered herself languidly
|
| The eldritch bitch must have muddled her spells
|
| Tinges of Persia, Ihope that it sells
|
| Chemical nuptials and ringing the bells
|
| It’s heavenly I say
|
| Then one winter morning you walk through the trees
|
| But they cut them all down for the factories
|
| Made this pretty cabinet and gave you the keys
|
| It’s hardly used I think |