Marc Bolan and T. Rex - Wind Quartets lyrics

rate me

The wind quartet howls softly

My jeep hand strokes her necklace

Crusted, crammed with old Etruscan gold.

Her bird head torn with summer

Inspects a Spartan runner

Robbing time a chosen Prince of Speed

My goblet drenched with Autumn

Tears for my dead cat Ena

Silver Surfer sorcerer of spray.

She headed deep in chartreuse

A falcon glimpse of white teeth

Separated by lace cinnamon folds.

We hid and rid in hansom

Cab wrenched from lost Byzantium

Lordlett who once held the earth In chains