This Sort of Thing...


Yantra Mantra



Both crossed Europe from afar

To avoid the sort of people that we are

And then we met here

In a bar

Not the sort of thing we do

Strange it made our dreams come true

Right upon the doorstep

Of the Tsar


And the Yantra flows along

All day she sings her songs

And she gets all the words



Antique eccentricity

Is what our friends and neighbours see

When they visit us


A house that’s full of junk and cats

Cyrillic welcome on the mat

From a world of madness

We are free


And the Yantra’s winding by

And she drinks her foraged chai

And when I taste it I think



A garden kissed with colour's our trademark

So picturesque that it might be a park

When they explore it

People remark

Trees and plants of many breeds

Reflect the caring nature of our deeds

And those vampiric little bats

As it gets dark


And the current never ends

Going slowly round the bend

While to our sanctum

We transcend


We move in circles most arcane

Our hates and passions both the same

Without each other we would go


Folks we know can't comprehend

How lives together we can spend

A little strange but we're

A perfect blend


And by this river I speak of

Friends gave us a gentle shove

‘til unexpected we fell in



Yantra Mantra

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