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Hay sailor
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Hay sailor
*
O you who are sailing in the night, wait until the morning
How many prisoners when Shaw longing guide the way
How many tears he poured over the services of the cheeks
Wash the locked grief over the edges of the guide
Maybe the path was not in the palm of its range
We kept the door lost from my impossible shirt
Maybe it was an option while we were in a perpetual slumber
All the footsteps were blocked except the deep flashes of that woe
The calamities in her waves went through a manual melody in a mist
Whenever the sun shone, we went to the long night
This first page
This second page
First
the second
He walked in us fast and beautiful
And the fowl of that that is in the hand of the unseen is a scoundrel
And look at me when memory
I'll just kick you in the face of a friend
