WINE AND GATES
The Storm, Then Fight, Uncles Little Flag?
sample hurts
in the chaste we found
the lucky response of ulterior words
worth denial, we know impunity's sound
the only way through there
the sin of silence made a golden throne
asking this way and then, the burden of a pear
is your sigh of a familiar time, or atone...
signature of a driven mind
in the punch, the courage to live
the similar earth, the similar rhyme
to a reason left to paper to give
handing out the shadow of a chance
the name of guile and the fame of style
is a wage of need for been, the instance
with a new form to guile
should you have a salt for the simplicity of the soul?
is a hair out of place, the kind of thing we know to be heart?
is the patience of skill's unseen, the knock of the terrible?
will we marry or part, the times to live in the way of a panic's guard?
in the end, the devil resigned himself to a steak
the choice of his cherub, in its way, was a bitter herb
thinking the role of dignity, the hound of hell said odds to make
by the very legends of heaven, we understand the earth's urge...?
so to a tom cat with a belly of aiding the same thing every day
the wisdom you made, to deliver a gaiety of succor to the speed
of courage, the stars themselves agree with a proper patience
for the toes of humility to be, the age of sincerity to honestly keep...
in the chaste we found
the lucky response of ulterior words
worth denial, we know impunity's sound
the only way through there
the sin of silence made a golden throne
asking this way and then, the burden of a pear
is your sigh of a familiar time, or atone...
signature of a driven mind
in the punch, the courage to live
the similar earth, the similar rhyme
to a reason left to paper to give
handing out the shadow of a chance
the name of guile and the fame of style
is a wage of need for been, the instance
with a new form to guile
should you have a salt for the simplicity of the soul?
is a hair out of place, the kind of thing we know to be heart?
is the patience of skill's unseen, the knock of the terrible?
will we marry or part, the times to live in the way of a panic's guard?
in the end, the devil resigned himself to a steak
the choice of his cherub, in its way, was a bitter herb
thinking the role of dignity, the hound of hell said odds to make
by the very legends of heaven, we understand the earth's urge...?
so to a tom cat with a belly of aiding the same thing every day
the wisdom you made, to deliver a gaiety of succor to the speed
of courage, the stars themselves agree with a proper patience
for the toes of humility to be, the age of sincerity to honestly keep...
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The Storm, Then Fight, Uncles Little Flag?
The Storm, Then Fight, Uncles Little Flag?
