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• Artiste: Herman Dune
• Titre: Glory Of Old
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i left the flat cause it felt like home ordered wine and sat down to write you a poem the words came easy, the words came strong the poem would be good, the poem would be long wine came but i didn't drink a sip i just checked i had money for the wine and for the tip then the poem went on and about an hour past i lit a straight and had my drink at last oh you, you who know me quite well you know that i don't live where i dwell i don't need a table, i don't need a drink all i do need is some room to think given the waterfall, given the few anything goes, anythings coo i take the world with its buildings and its trees and all its swans become my geese the river a little stream the glory of old: a dream but you, you who know me well enough you know what it's all made of, it's all made of good stuff i kissed the cutest greek little girl she gave me some soda and a little blue pearl i found a roman city in southern italy and destroyed its ruins, destroyed them totally i left a pair of black underpants in the men's room of a bar in paris, france i slept on the beach above the artic cercle woke up alive and didn't call it a miracle but you, you who know me like nobody else does you know it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter where i was