The sun
Is falling
In the east,
Beneath the radio tower
Which pulses
In the night
Like a red
Heartbeat.
Smells of Sunday
Dinner waft
Down the stairs
On Elven feet,
Remnants of animal
Things,
The harvest and
The gentle
Sleep.
The sun
Is falling
In the east,
Beneath the radio tower
Which pulses
In the night
Like a red
Heartbeat.
Smells of Sunday
Dinner waft
Down the stairs
On Elven feet,
Remnants of animal
Things,
The harvest and
The gentle
Sleep.
INSTANT NOODLES 