Victor Geld Biography

The moon hurtles across the sky
A slow and lonely mass,
It's made of cocaine not cheese,
How else would you explain
...

My god, they had killed him
They had taken him in the dark night's hue
His blood like moses's nile_
From it emanated the smell of copper
...

They say that these are labour pains,
And tomorrow the people will arise.
But all I see is a trail of blood and tears_
We have been working hard in the wrong place,
...

The earth has been weaned,
From the bossom of the universe_
Hurtled toward the flame
Far away from whence it once nestled_
...

O' how I love thee,
A place true and dear
Where the sun stands still
Above the grassy plain;
...