Wind Quartets
Marc Bolan
Marc Bolan
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The wind quartet howls softly My jeep hand strokes her necklace Crusted, crammed with old Etruscan gold. Her bird head torn with summer Inspects a Spartan runner Robbing time a chosen Prince of Speed My goblet drenched with Autumn Tears for my dead cat Ena Silver Surfer sorcerer of spray. She headed deep in chartreuse A falcon glimpse of white teeth Separated by lace cinnamon folds. We hid and rid in hansom Cab wrenched from lost Byzantium Lordlett who once held the earth In chains
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"Wind Quartets Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 7 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/3953760/Marc+Bolan/Wind+Quartets>.
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