Style :: prev :: next :: A varied world is being hurled through deeds undone apart from none it glares me in the face which represents the iron fence that's drawn at night through red sun light and clouds strewn out as lace they scream and shout of Sauerkraut can no one feel their hearts of steal or argue up their case or can we know a mind's dark foe a flicker fine that draws the line the end their horrid race © 1985 john r. chase
|
|
|