On our imaginary continent
people treat their bodies like Violins
to be played
mastered by stray chaos
from music un made
The paths are strewn with
strange fruit and tender tourists
our way to sea is dissembled by
sheet music awry in coastal wind
Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
On our imaginary continent
people treat their bodies like Violins
to be played
mastered by stray chaos
from music un made
The paths are strewn with
strange fruit and tender tourists
our way to sea is dissembled by
sheet music awry in coastal wind
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