September Wind.
Mr. Kite and Mr. Tallon,
rode high upon the wind,
just to spite the fallon,
just to spite the fallon…
Nikita’s in the back-street,
eating red-crust with rye,
the September wind breathes a sigh,
it breathes a sigh, and dies…
There’s a bar on Sandwich Street,
it’s filled up to the brim,
the red-men and the labour meet,
filled to the brim, with sin…
Mr. Kite and Mr. Tallon,
rode high upon the wind,
the fallon screamed, the fallon dove,
the fallon flew on thin…
JP Brown – 16/04/2008.
