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Its not even nostalgia, its infinite.
On your iron horse, or just on your feet,
stirring it down through St Pauls Road,
the wind blowing through you hair,
the long coat broadening, in distending waves,
billowing and flaring, surrounding the body.
Everything is flowing ...
Processes of life.
On your iron horse, or just on your feet,
stirring it down through St Pauls Road,
the wind blowing through you hair,
the long coat broadening, in distending waves,
billowing and flaring, surrounding the body.
Everything is flowing ...
Processes of life.
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