Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!
Louis UntermeyerWrite out of love, write out of instinct, write out of reason. But always for money.
Louis UntermeyerNothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!
Louis UntermeyerWrite out of love, write out of instinct, write out of reason. But always for money.
Louis Untermeyer