Rhapsody of Rust
And when the world looks so sick like the face of February,
Trading the pale eyes with muddy mornings,
The sunburning market classifying ashes of virtue and vice,
Weighing the infectious faith of dukes and duchess,
And thou gentleman foul framed centuries ago to sleep inside the...
Trading the pale eyes with muddy mornings,
The sunburning market classifying ashes of virtue and vice,
Weighing the infectious faith of dukes and duchess,
And thou gentleman foul framed centuries ago to sleep inside the...