The fat of the land Those eyes speak to me Of life lived Of battles won and lost You seem sad Thinking on yesterday Something in your manner is drawn...
Kensho When your singular voice is joined to the chorus in such a way you can no Longer tell which sounds are your own that is the essence of harmony...
Dogs run up and down on the high street In front of shops freshly boarded closed Mothers drag shoeless/ shirtless toddlers in a sight you must behold...
