WINE AND GATES
Let The Wine Do The Tocking, Not The Fish
haunted thoughts
for the tried and tooth
we detail the curiosity of knots
peeks of prestige make pokes of proof
date with an angel
time to rescue bare, necessities
time to savor the think, of mete that will
time to escape the sound of cities
how are your power's of observation?
was a history, by jove, the muse of sincerity?
now is a raging work, in love with a star, vocation?
does music remind you to live in the end, virginity?
peace is a curious liberty, to tact
the reason of my season, is to confirm the pact
special, by any other name, is a craving for the fact
washed faces for the needs of a limelight, is an act...
why does this house save a lip for frustration?
can a hero with a breed of instinct come to these, for sates?
should a cat in lover's pajama's share the road to intuition?
was your life so uncanny, that they didn't know the fame of an irate...?
push of celibacy into the light, where are our bunny slipper's?
long to a tooth, the roses we fell in love with, were old enough to burn, even?
the rest of a staring fish, well, and seldom tried for supper?
is it me, or is that dream of shade in the corner of earn...
for the tried and tooth
we detail the curiosity of knots
peeks of prestige make pokes of proof
date with an angel
time to rescue bare, necessities
time to savor the think, of mete that will
time to escape the sound of cities
how are your power's of observation?
was a history, by jove, the muse of sincerity?
now is a raging work, in love with a star, vocation?
does music remind you to live in the end, virginity?
peace is a curious liberty, to tact
the reason of my season, is to confirm the pact
special, by any other name, is a craving for the fact
washed faces for the needs of a limelight, is an act...
why does this house save a lip for frustration?
can a hero with a breed of instinct come to these, for sates?
should a cat in lover's pajama's share the road to intuition?
was your life so uncanny, that they didn't know the fame of an irate...?
push of celibacy into the light, where are our bunny slipper's?
long to a tooth, the roses we fell in love with, were old enough to burn, even?
the rest of a staring fish, well, and seldom tried for supper?
is it me, or is that dream of shade in the corner of earn...
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Let The Wine Do The Tocking, Not The Fish
Let The Wine Do The Tocking, Not The Fish