Nunhead Cemetery, up the hill
Flowers open from the graves
On my bike, through the rain
I take in their fragrance
Mixed with flesh decomposed
Like the whiff of an island,
Cold, from the Caribbeans
Flowers open from the graves
On my bike, through the rain
I take in their fragrance
Mixed with flesh decomposed
Like the whiff of an island,
Cold, from the Caribbeans
