WINE AND GATES
theys pout, we redoubt a hop (pop in the night)
pressed sheets
of vellum images and the northern stare of a flower
the waters that be, are no more
than the image of condition to love, the scent of a noble power
aces and eights
cards of harmony on the table
with a pressed toe, the war has become all sates
are you the turn of passion in the night, the lark, the fable
with a sleepy word, i have a troubled tongue
each his care of sincerity, the tact of warmth of the piety i favor
is a lip of lords that come to these with a smile of suns
like a prayer to nourished minds, i know the pride of a lover
since guitars, since money, since tradition, since medicine
the nature of a nude fame has collected in my sights
the predator of simplicity is always a figment of imagination
that has the time of the moon, are you ready for breath that lights?
we thought soul...
the act of conception and the art of a bullet hole
has a lip of consideration greater than the grease of old
pass by and accept the face of a dole...
pennies for a man to hide
though a creation of need is obvious, where is the love of a sincerity
right there, the terror of simplicity is an animal, until lies
have the consequence of a searching meat, murder or method, we have no manhood, liberty
of vellum images and the northern stare of a flower
the waters that be, are no more
than the image of condition to love, the scent of a noble power
aces and eights
cards of harmony on the table
with a pressed toe, the war has become all sates
are you the turn of passion in the night, the lark, the fable
with a sleepy word, i have a troubled tongue
each his care of sincerity, the tact of warmth of the piety i favor
is a lip of lords that come to these with a smile of suns
like a prayer to nourished minds, i know the pride of a lover
since guitars, since money, since tradition, since medicine
the nature of a nude fame has collected in my sights
the predator of simplicity is always a figment of imagination
that has the time of the moon, are you ready for breath that lights?
we thought soul...
the act of conception and the art of a bullet hole
has a lip of consideration greater than the grease of old
pass by and accept the face of a dole...
pennies for a man to hide
though a creation of need is obvious, where is the love of a sincerity
right there, the terror of simplicity is an animal, until lies
have the consequence of a searching meat, murder or method, we have no manhood, liberty
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theys pout, we redoubt a hop (pop in the night)
theys pout, we redoubt a hop (pop in the night)
