Doors, The
Horse Latitudes
When the still sea conspires an armor
And her sullen and aborted
Currents breed tiny monsters,
True sailing is dead. Awkward instant And the first animal is jettisoned, Legs furiously pumping Their stiff green gallop, And heads bob up Poise Delicate Pause Consent Letras de cancionesIn mute nostril agony Carefully refined And sealed over.
From Letras Mania