Curling lips

 

They talked of curling lips

When entering the ship

It was a sky-light ship

With purple divine lights

And tangerine music

They drank soft red lion

And danced for memory

They had wings on their heels

And gold dreams in their heads

Fancy was a siberian train

Lost among snows

With moujiks at the end

Officers were feasting

At the top of the train

Then suddenly the black

Silent and cold

The vessel stopped

They went out shivering

And each one went away

Alone in his coffin.

 

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