In an Age
Calm the rattle in this fool's brain.
Put it down to tax.
Tired barbs that speak in tones
That coo, then bury walls in dust.
It tells me I am not enough,
It laughs at where I scatter wide
My roots into the ground.
Do we not need some nourishment,
When no one is around?
If I could slow the sparks that flow
From eyes,...
Put it down to tax.
Tired barbs that speak in tones
That coo, then bury walls in dust.
It tells me I am not enough,
It laughs at where I scatter wide
My roots into the ground.
Do we not need some nourishment,
When no one is around?
If I could slow the sparks that flow
From eyes,...