*** I learnt emotion in dead air on the other side of the sandpit holidays aren’t sensations is the scent of vacation a breath of fresh air? a…
I do not need a Volpone-guide, I do not need El Dorado bright. Gold is not what I had ever eyed. I will not succumb to that blight.
My heart is a tumbling stone. A small, round, grey ball, shaped by the northern winds that blow. My heart is a tumbling stone. A heavy burden keeping me low. Where have the emotions gone? I don't know.
On the other side of never-ending street, with me, walks a lonely shadow. And it treads, with me, on this never-ending meadow.
The people are proudly wearing garments of shame. Amidst the chaos, we all agree that the victim is to blame.