Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking Into Desolation Row
In other words, ... --- ...
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hey, another "blast from the past!" Have to admit, I check up on the blog from time to time. Definitely picked up on the distress signal...I GET IT. Sending you happy thoughts of days long ago and Breyer horses galloping through the fields... :) Tara
thanks tara! gosh, those were some nice days :)
Post a Comment