Patterned tiles in shimmering grace
Catch carousel smiles painted in place
Quietly forging the head meets the hand
Fluttering softly the footsteps escaping
And souless poverty sends it's greeting
The strange girl she wears red today
And the sometimes has nowhere to hang
The face he wore for her
This labyrinth of vales to wander
Follow the witches revelry
Here his way one gladly loses
Truly it would easier be
Writer(s): Barry Galvin
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