green september burned to october brown. bare november led to decembers frozen ground. the seasons stumbled round our drifting lives are bound to a falling.
Listen to the song he sings. Can't you see his music brings her crystal sleep?. As her heavy eyelids fall. He's taking her to where the dolls rule the world.
The trees on Golden Avenue were green as Irish morning. We were wearing caps and gowns. My mother took a photograph. I was the only one not smiling, I was too big for this town.