The Flying Ship

The Flying Ship

Thursday, September 23, 2010

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The last curtain is cut and close
Time behind has stopped and froze

Yellow numbers spinning around,
Watch the numbers spin.

Oh look, oh look at the wax work dolls
Follow them down the fol-de-rolls.

"Fol-de-ol' roll"
Smell the setting sun.

A mote loops the castle,
A brown paper parcel.

Dabble in the string and paper
Cut it up, wrap it round.

Lucky Lucky you
You deserve it too.

Friends friends everywhere.
Sounds like news.

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