Was a long and dark December, when the banks became cathedrals, - TopicsExpress

Was a long and dark December, when the banks became cathedrals, and the fox became God. Priests clutched onto bibles, hollowed out to fit their rifles and a cross held aloft. Bury me in armour, when Im dead and hit the ground, my nerves are poles that unfroze. (...) I took my love down to violet hill, there we sat in snow. All that time she was silent still, said: if you love me wont you let me know?

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