Where My Friend Left Me
He knows where the magician hides his
Cards, dew wet my boot trail to his door
And noon hardly wrenches him from me.
The bus is growing wings
Then we lose our teeth to the ferries.
It is rude to …
He knows where the magician hides his
Cards, dew wet my boot trail to his door
And noon hardly wrenches him from me.
The bus is growing wings
Then we lose our teeth to the ferries.
It is rude to …