Winters tale
Ah. let the sweet angels Dream. Keep his eye lids on thy Pillow, Fever make us all thin and
draw draw draw Near the artists lair Upon he sits on the Gallery chair Lay with honey yellow
God save the queen To sid vicious and the Sex pistols Olympic Dreams Twenty seven medals
Gapes around the silent arena Tis inside bugle trumpets bull ca… Tis of wild angry soundings foot Bounds and spurns the angry mighty Brute, first run in the sand pit,…
The sweet smell of flowers Lies in the wet dewy grass Upon they wake of the dawn Of the day From dawn to dust they
Thou does death start Frame of thy flowers Stars glow in the dark time love spare so rare for thus love fell apart
Boil up to the heavens Of fire. To the external craters Below. Far from my body of soul
This open glen was thick with Thorns Tis then the white of the flower hide the horns of the shy fallow Deer
It is I write a few lines Of a poets story of thy Times We all like Mr chimes Who drinks gin on the
I see a game this a shame To see you at my front door a dame of fame sits by the Shore. Delights to see the blue floor
For the priest and the holy well And the bell .thy story tell., And for the spinning wheels, Spindle spun, And to walk over the sand dunes
O, come to talk to Thee O there is only thee O, I love the winters Nights
Still waters of the stream Row in my boat in the river Tay. Upon the swans of the lake Come up to side of the boat
what from this barran land can we reap? our fields are dry my body Frail Go on the trail before thy fail