02-06-2005, 11:10 PM
<u><i><b><b><i><u><b><i><u><i><b><b>Dwarven Flea Market</u></i></b>Like a dragon quenching his thirst,</b></b></i></u></i></b></b></i></u>
it burns the water, hissing scream of steam;
the Hoffman steam polisher interrupts my thought,
even while I shine the gleaming bracelet of gold.
In this windowless confine of the flea market, stay I must,
where the rays of sun and moon refuse to beam.
Even while those around me dream of jewelries bought,
I, a Tolkien's elf, lament amongst the dwarves of old.
Each jewelry booth, like a cave of a legend,
has a guardian dragon that fumes and hisses;
and in the Latin music shop,
beyond the row of Chinese porcelain figurines,
salsa beats the heart.
"You say you hate me,And i know that it is true,But why cant i stop thinking of you"
it burns the water, hissing scream of steam;
the Hoffman steam polisher interrupts my thought,
even while I shine the gleaming bracelet of gold.
In this windowless confine of the flea market, stay I must,
where the rays of sun and moon refuse to beam.
Even while those around me dream of jewelries bought,
I, a Tolkien's elf, lament amongst the dwarves of old.
Each jewelry booth, like a cave of a legend,
has a guardian dragon that fumes and hisses;
and in the Latin music shop,
beyond the row of Chinese porcelain figurines,
salsa beats the heart.
"You say you hate me,And i know that it is true,But why cant i stop thinking of you"