King Crimson

Houses iced in whitewash guard a pale shore-line
Cornered by the cactus and the pine.
Here I wander where sweet sage and strange herbs grow
Down a sun-baked crumpled stony road.
Dusty wheels leaning rusting in the sun;
Snuff brown walls where spanish lizards run.
Here Im shadowed by a dragon fig trees fan
Ringed by ants and musing over man.
Ill unwind my old strings while the sun shine down
Wont climb any high thing while the sun shine.