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Hear, a West Wind calling, |
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I hear it calling my name, |
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Snow, on Greenland falling, |
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The ice is melting away. |
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Sitting in a greenhouse painted green, |
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None to picked and none to be seen: |
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Standing in a harbour soaking rain, |
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Why must the sky bring rain back again? |
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Wake, an angel talking, |
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She's asking, "black, white or nun?" |
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Drake, from Plymouth streaking, |
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He skinks the galleons with his guns. |
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Climbing up a creeper chasing flies, |
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Unzip their wings and look in their eyes: |
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Standing on a steeple stitching time, |
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Time to be saved and time to be nine. |
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Footsteps in a blizzard point the way to go |
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Heads of marble snowmen, |
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Miles and miles from home. |
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Sleeping on an Interstellar Plane |
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Sitting in a greenhouse painted green |
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None to be picked and none to be seen |
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Sleeping on an Interstellar Plane |
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Will we return to find it again? |
