Cradled in the seine’s cold embrace;
Not wet, but watching
Ships bludgeon their way through
Her murky waters.
If I were a child I would fancy a frolic in her hold;
Now my mind strays to needles, bodies and hypothermia.
Oh to be a child again.
Cradled in the seine’s cold embrace;
Not wet, but watching
Ships bludgeon their way through
Her murky waters.
If I were a child I would fancy a frolic in her hold;
Now my mind strays to needles, bodies and hypothermia.
Oh to be a child again.