WINE AND GATES
Pretty owes when every reason same
discussing ivory
while standing in dreads fire
the page of the devil, to writhe and eddy
does this kiss have the sense to ire?
languages that have the sense of cope
the touch of intimacy in a kinder slice of bread
the reach of sunshine in the reality of hope
obvious contenders for a slap in the face and a kick in the head
maybe seven rainbows in the cause of your eye...
has the patience of washing the walls of vertigo...
the mercy in a hand laiden with soap being the treasure of wry...
pressure and vaunted like, the wellness of owed...
taken for an enemy in the weeds
the reasons are many, to live up to the luck of persistance
but the crash of hurt in the same, by the egg that heeds
is a lucre of vision to mete to the cans of existance
where is our smile, in the way we were?
by the age of harmony that suggests the kindness of would was with us always
is this fate of eyes and dread anew, the way to a nations pure...
the belayed pout of sincerity we knew is a hap to correct the stains
they tasted the fruit, in curiousity
we grew more for everybody to adore
the bidden lips of worth made a heart of virtuosity
come the lurid face of war, with a pinch we order
but the moon adresses us still, in the voice we thought hidden
take the limits of reason and make a head anew
the rightness of should is an angry force, if met good regretting
the climb of when, is liberty ever the argument of who'd?
while standing in dreads fire
the page of the devil, to writhe and eddy
does this kiss have the sense to ire?
languages that have the sense of cope
the touch of intimacy in a kinder slice of bread
the reach of sunshine in the reality of hope
obvious contenders for a slap in the face and a kick in the head
maybe seven rainbows in the cause of your eye...
has the patience of washing the walls of vertigo...
the mercy in a hand laiden with soap being the treasure of wry...
pressure and vaunted like, the wellness of owed...
taken for an enemy in the weeds
the reasons are many, to live up to the luck of persistance
but the crash of hurt in the same, by the egg that heeds
is a lucre of vision to mete to the cans of existance
where is our smile, in the way we were?
by the age of harmony that suggests the kindness of would was with us always
is this fate of eyes and dread anew, the way to a nations pure...
the belayed pout of sincerity we knew is a hap to correct the stains
they tasted the fruit, in curiousity
we grew more for everybody to adore
the bidden lips of worth made a heart of virtuosity
come the lurid face of war, with a pinch we order
but the moon adresses us still, in the voice we thought hidden
take the limits of reason and make a head anew
the rightness of should is an angry force, if met good regretting
the climb of when, is liberty ever the argument of who'd?
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Pretty owes when every reason same
Pretty owes when every reason same
