Unnamed

The new world is poison
And you are an old soul
You've been tainted by its colours
You've been victim to its wounds.

Now you want to understand it,
Change it for the better
But you sit there naked in your letters,
Writing home in your worst.

Give me boxes, keep my stories
And let the bells of London toll,
I'm on the slave ship that sails asunder
I'm the stain upon its gold.