|
The sun was going down behind a tattoo tree
|
And the simple act of an oar's stroke put diamonds in the
|
sea
|
And all because of the phosphorus there in quantity
|
As I dug you digging me in Mexico
|
|
There in the Valley of Scorpio beneath the cross of jade
|
Smoking on a seashell pipe the gypsies had made
|
We sat and we dreamed awhile of smugglers bringing wine
|
That crystal-thought time in Mexico
|
|
Sitting in a chair of bamboo sipping grenadine
|
Straining my eyes for a surfacing submarine
|
Kingdoms of ants walk across my feet
|
I'm a-shaking in my seat in Mexico
|
|
Grasshoppers creaking in the velvet jungle night
|
Microscopic circles in the fluid of my sight
|
Watching a black-eyed native girl cut and trim the lamp
|
Valentino vamp in Mexico
|
|
The sun was going down behind a tattoo tree
|
And the simple act of an oar's stroke put diamonds in the
|
sea
|
And all because of the phosphorus there in quantity
|
As I dug you digging me in Mexico
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Sand And Foam
|
| Donovan |
