Alpha Mail

The run was running out the back side of the linen
The sandals of diamonds
The damsels of the sand and
the random hands of
Fate and kate
And all the shape of nape
Under cape and dagger
I stagger Like a swagger
In the fake shake
I forsake the saffron make
Of Peace and pace
Of lace and dice
Of dace and lice
All among the hallowed homes
Howling like a hurricane around the mountains
Moaning like a lake in the low meadow break