Spinning the web
Out of control
No place to go
Damn it’s too bloody cold.
Step right, then left
One foot outside the door
The wandering heart
Has no place to soar.
The heart of a gypsy
Beats with wanderlust
An eye to the East
Fills now with dust.
Slip into the cocoon
Wrap the blankets tight
Thor is blowing frosty winds
Wake me on Beltane night.
No comments:
Post a Comment