At dusk my heart is filled with gloom,
I drive my cab to ancient tombs.
The setting sun seems drunk with wine,
Magnificent on the decline.
Note: The Plain was a resort for merry-making. 4Lr3ULyiZiHeQtvkal9ZbMfBqgUJF9mliEF8YeaSYGsiwgC7ahcO4XKmXi8m6Km3
