Texty: Mechanical Poet. Woodland Prattlers. Sirens From The Underland.

LAY YOUR HEAD ON A FEATHERY MOSS
FREEZE YOUR MIND AND DROWN IN DOSS
SEE THE PLACES YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN
LET THE MAGIC BEGIN

Bountiful gilt
Stained the green
Never-ending wilt
Covered the scene
Fanciful shades
Gathered on the glades
Wheezy summertime slowly fades

Mummified grass
Cloaked the lanes
Faint ruddy brass
Coloured the plains
Deep in the haze
A pristine race
Is beginning to sing witching lays

Wonderful ballads are lugging away
You won't be back if you leave the way
Sometimes a well-known voice can be heard in the choir
From a nebulous mire
Are they contented or just magnetized?
Enfettered and still mesmerized