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Wind Quartets lyrics
The wind quartet howls softly
My jeep hand strokes her necklace
Crusted, crammed with old Etruscan gold.
Her bird head torn with summer
Inspects a Spartan runner
Robbing time a chosen Prince of Speed.
My goblet drenched with Autumn
Tears for my dead cat Ena
Silver Surfer scorcerer of spray.
She hooded deep in chartreuse
A falcon glimpse of white teeth
Separated by lace cinnamon folds.
We hid and rid in hansom
Cab wrenched from lost Byzantium
Lordlett who once held the earth in chains.
Part of these releases
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- Track 3 on Prophets, Seers & Sages, The Angels of the Ages
- 2 Stacey Grove
- 4 Conesuela
Wind Quartets Video
Thanks to
Mae
for submitting the lyrics.
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