She sinks among the memories
And drowns amid the flood
Of all that she has lost in time
In friendship, and in blood,
For joy’s a special kind of spice:
We sprinkle it in haste,
Then find upon the morrow that
It leaves an
Aftertaste
Other People's Feelings
She sinks among the memories
And drowns amid the flood
Of all that she has lost in time
In friendship, and in blood,
For joy’s a special kind of spice:
We sprinkle it in haste,
Then find upon the morrow that
It leaves an
Aftertaste