Monday, September 10, 2012


Roll it up
Roll it up
Roll it up
Ere the flame burn out and it's cool to the touch
Taste red drops running down the hand
Grasp eternity's hour in your hand
Munch, lunch, soon it will all be mulch
Seed the ground and ears sprout to hear the whistling wind and peck the dirt
Give and receive what was at the start
Of what rises when the flames die out
Take part and when he sings at the sun, depart
Pass by the man on the curb

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