Not exactly taciturn, he shared his bottle openly Battered, banished, ill-remembered Terrified of something seen We grew to reek of martyrdom And (our) mutual misanthropy Certain pleasures taken from him Never meant to want to be
Emptier known as a number
Lack of luck would not explain His traveling for safety's sanction "Standing on his head an always Landing on his feet" Casting blame and laughing In facetious conversation Certain pleasures in return he Never meant to want to be
Emptier known an a number
They found him cold this morning They found him cold at dawnTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
