Yet my mouth waters still;
Life out of death.
Full of airs and graces,
I wandered lonely as a cloud
to high-strung automobiles.
Tho' this is summer weather,
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
Mad to tug her standard down.
With tears and fanning leaves:
or oils it, maybe. Somebody
Yet my mouth waters still;
Life out of death.
Full of airs and graces,
I wandered lonely as a cloud
to high-strung automobiles.
Tho' this is summer weather,
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
Mad to tug her standard down.
With tears and fanning leaves:
or oils it, maybe. Somebody