Along crags and sunless cracks I go, Up rib of rock, down spine of stone, I dare not slumber where the right winds whistle, Lest her creeping-soul clutch this heart of thistle. (Nick Cave)

Along crags and sunless cracks I go, Up rib of rock, down spine of stone, I dare not slumber where the right winds whistle, Lest her creeping-soul clutch this heart of thistle.

Nick Cave

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clutch dare heart lest rib right rock slumber spine stone thistle whistle

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