Shrina

Instead of killed time, in your place at home, please bring me turkish delight, whisper a tune, what's the use of growing cold, anything will do, thirty years of being kind, while you're on the 'phone, has gone on the tide, salt rims the dunes, crickets sing bull frogs croak, you sit in the room, if i asked for some wine, to shame this dull moan, don't ask for reasons why, or if i wouldn't mind fall on me like stones, aboard the shipping lines, just let's go.