There in the hinterland
This people I know
Who love the sleeping sand
For its distant glow
A hut a hovel a house
The grinding of the glass
The hollow earth
And freedoms passed
Then lost.
They choo choo south
And boo hoo to any
Who try to close its hungry mouth
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 10:09 AM UTC
There in the hinterland
This people I know
Who love the sleeping sand
For its distant glow
A hut a hovel a house
The grinding of the glass
The hollow earth
And freedoms passed
Then lost.
They choo choo south
And boo hoo to any
Who try to close its hungry mouth
