The saga of the mist
Finds me awake and alert
A stranger on the shifty seashore
A flower on the wall of time
Life is visceral for its earnest practitioners
And here we stand
Mad to live, mad to lie, mad to die
Every second ticking away like steps of eternity
Greenwood has long since been destroyed
Desolation row revoked and rescinded
The gates of doom opened for the bridal march
Materialists, consumers, whirlpool degenerates
We’re a marching band of highland lambs
Led by innocence, led by the astute
Pray, where does this cookie trail lead
but to Hansel, Gretel and the saints of old ?
Kortbæk_Travels 