My Hat Blew Off
I sang of love and the riches of a life well lived, but the winds rose and curled about me. My hat blew off.
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I am a Dutch surrealist with a moustache, beret and pipe.
I sang of love and the riches of a life well lived, but the winds rose and curled about me. My hat blew off.
Follow the heart's pulsation through each vein, And you will reach a pass where lovers pause, Wondering whither way to make their lane And thus renew and beautify their course.
Dust is rising with the incoming tide. Exiting the ride with floss in tact. Arm around porcelain shoulders. The depth of eyes, swimming in pupils..
The door is ajar. The jar is a door. Theatrical floorboards. Bored in the theatre. Tricks turned on a sixpence. Like Prince Philip in his. Ridiculous London taxi. Poncin' about with his.