Was I always of another crane
Was I always of another in vain?

Would the wine be so kind that I-
Wanna slap around my soul at this night?
It’s the urge of hunting and of dining
But I had never known the true fulfillment
I’d like to savor the softness
Of that blue pleasure, of that loftiness
Would the times begone if I had wished for it?
Nor would they suffer the same consequences
But yet here I am in the wall
Eating my heart out with a spoon of drool
A spinner web painted around my dress
And collaring my neck and my legs
When in the true fashion lies my sensation,
I will be there, to marry our brethren
When would the sun shine out if it’s high ground
And cut up the songs that spin out?
Must she come up with something to hide
Or some telegram which flew wide....

Of the shore?