Portobello Road was some sort of dream.
I didn't prefer London,
except this small corner that was laden with old things,
a valley of clocks and jewels,
rusty forgotten relics of humanity.
Whose to say what hands have held them
and which have passed,
buried and bygone.
(black and white kodak film)
I didn't prefer London,
except this small corner that was laden with old things,
a valley of clocks and jewels,
rusty forgotten relics of humanity.
Whose to say what hands have held them
and which have passed,
buried and bygone.
(black and white kodak film)
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