Upon the rock of discontent, our city drops its skirts
Inhales the dust and detritus, declares itself at home
When all around on higher climes, the air perfumed in rose
Tis not for me, my city claims
I’d rather lie in dirt.
Discontent
Upon the rock of discontent, our city drops its skirts
Inhales the dust and detritus, declares itself at home
When all around on higher climes, the air perfumed in rose
Tis not for me, my city claims
I’d rather lie in dirt.
AbyKittiwake 