Soft leather, plumped up cotton
Vast chairs of day or night
With cushions
Support for…
Anyhow this is someway to heaven
At rest
Looking at the breeze
Feeling someway secure
On the brink of reason
Available
For the entrance
To the gypsy fair
With all manner of persuasions
In shadows they flicker on by
Oh me, oh my, how to be
Enslaved to this the naked eye
Behind the eyelids
Somewhere deeper than the smile
The golden mile of pleasure
The treasure trove we buy into
