WINE AND GATES
Smoked Mirrors Are Still He'll In New Guises
pinched penny's and a bee hive
the truth in playing ball
toast of hosts to honestly give
the terror of unity to a wall
the future of sincerity, where is our life in shadows?
milk toast served with beer
the tart ends of home, ages of sedition begin to glow
the right to scare the peer...
like honor to a scotch
let ice tell the tale
where is the nature of candy, and crossed...
this wash day was bitter
smell of a rancor in the heath
where has virtue come, when has vow came
does this are of a king, have a day for sate?
angels of questions found the reality of a name
ire is a quiet thought for intuitons sense
fire is a wholesome lip of counts of the same
firmness is a lent terror of salt, if salt lends
forests are a legend of dirt to the nerve of patience
where has the child of vanity gone?
religion would show, the talk of yearning in the day's pining
boxes and hawks have an ancient song
this myth of kisses is a snake in the way of a dragon...
does an egg have a soul in the belly of another?
would the chaste of a crack, have the reason of season's?
is tradition of a fool for angenue that has toes to bother?
thus anger, the very animosity of a world, alive and breathing?
just who screwed up?
the truth is a million miles away, in the sea and in the heir's of war
the answer to it all, was a cause of shining love...?
the question of mercy to unease, is this the hour of merely...
the truth in playing ball
toast of hosts to honestly give
the terror of unity to a wall
the future of sincerity, where is our life in shadows?
milk toast served with beer
the tart ends of home, ages of sedition begin to glow
the right to scare the peer...
like honor to a scotch
let ice tell the tale
where is the nature of candy, and crossed...
this wash day was bitter
smell of a rancor in the heath
where has virtue come, when has vow came
does this are of a king, have a day for sate?
angels of questions found the reality of a name
ire is a quiet thought for intuitons sense
fire is a wholesome lip of counts of the same
firmness is a lent terror of salt, if salt lends
forests are a legend of dirt to the nerve of patience
where has the child of vanity gone?
religion would show, the talk of yearning in the day's pining
boxes and hawks have an ancient song
this myth of kisses is a snake in the way of a dragon...
does an egg have a soul in the belly of another?
would the chaste of a crack, have the reason of season's?
is tradition of a fool for angenue that has toes to bother?
thus anger, the very animosity of a world, alive and breathing?
just who screwed up?
the truth is a million miles away, in the sea and in the heir's of war
the answer to it all, was a cause of shining love...?
the question of mercy to unease, is this the hour of merely...
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Smoked Mirrors Are Still He`ll In New Guises
Smoked Mirrors Are Still He`ll In New Guises
