WINE AND GATES
Was Darwin Your First Love, Like A Seed...
crescendo
the language of vertigo and the hum of a lucres chance
does a hill have the sense to say me, a life to owe
saviors of gall and the gaeity of reality as it begin's...
back to a roaring flame, the suggestion of victory in the share of eaves
which is well, except for the smoke of dour symbols to know
have you an ash which informs you to kiss the regular offender of conceives?
like a boring old story in the window...
should a face have the now for a quiet lip
the role of vaguery comes into view
hard to tell, sayeth a moment in the sip
of winds that make you a heard cry for youth
my name is special, the laugh of simplicity in this hand
the talk of committment to the navel of desire, in the other
are you ready for my sincerities glass harp, and the ache of a demon
to know the court of another kind of need, the murder of bother
she and it, and the seas's shell of a whit
the powers that be, will imagine that glee
total life in the pride of care, as if now is lit
by the self same ward of survival, me...
epitaph to a lion of judes
are you the head of comment in the valley of your worth?
as we are, as we taste the land for newer days come and rued
is this the custom of severity, sense or the soul of certainty?
the tongue of gall and good nature
we tell the riddle of days to come and be, like a heart about to stop, flowers
the vision of dependance is a whole time on the blade of purity
haven't a wish ever been curiousity for a calmer nose on the face of power
the language of vertigo and the hum of a lucres chance
does a hill have the sense to say me, a life to owe
saviors of gall and the gaeity of reality as it begin's...
back to a roaring flame, the suggestion of victory in the share of eaves
which is well, except for the smoke of dour symbols to know
have you an ash which informs you to kiss the regular offender of conceives?
like a boring old story in the window...
should a face have the now for a quiet lip
the role of vaguery comes into view
hard to tell, sayeth a moment in the sip
of winds that make you a heard cry for youth
my name is special, the laugh of simplicity in this hand
the talk of committment to the navel of desire, in the other
are you ready for my sincerities glass harp, and the ache of a demon
to know the court of another kind of need, the murder of bother
she and it, and the seas's shell of a whit
the powers that be, will imagine that glee
total life in the pride of care, as if now is lit
by the self same ward of survival, me...
epitaph to a lion of judes
are you the head of comment in the valley of your worth?
as we are, as we taste the land for newer days come and rued
is this the custom of severity, sense or the soul of certainty?
the tongue of gall and good nature
we tell the riddle of days to come and be, like a heart about to stop, flowers
the vision of dependance is a whole time on the blade of purity
haven't a wish ever been curiousity for a calmer nose on the face of power
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Was Darwin Your First Love, Like A Seed...
Was Darwin Your First Love, Like A Seed...
