WINE AND GATES
Chimed Predators Ought Season's, Tomorrow
risk the nature, of odd thine
insist upon the care, of sudden whines
notice the take of youth, of all in the wine
create a passion never heard of, of earned times...
we told the secret, to lips of curses in
we told the selection, to sips of heed out
the taste of a monkey in its patience's
the taste of a money in its heart to pound
cage of a simian joke
what has a door, thinks the reach of sunlight for rued, and knows when eden...?
the tart envy of could is here, to take the poke
presence of mind for a frog, that has jumped the keys in...
they thank the lover's
we sell the right to a new cache of honey
the bearing of salt in our fists for the night, where the forthright know clover
with the right lady luck the nature of silliness can, the tongue
radio's addicted to breath mints
TV's adding the nature of libertine efforts at vegetables
iron's add whether in the front of bedside manner of doctor lint
bread boxes adam with the neglect of a union of man and woman in severe hell...
like a triumphing ear to the grindstone
we found the secret to be, a chalky stare
of life in the setting of rued stones
the ancient should the terror of questioning the care...
passing the gravy on bacon hill, where the turtles sink in
the tarry of paint in the stages and the faces of creation, should with a hurrying
intellect and the needy stare of callous witness, has the moustache of the wind
where we were, the hair of a changed season in the eaves, the poor and the caring...
insist upon the care, of sudden whines
notice the take of youth, of all in the wine
create a passion never heard of, of earned times...
we told the secret, to lips of curses in
we told the selection, to sips of heed out
the taste of a monkey in its patience's
the taste of a money in its heart to pound
cage of a simian joke
what has a door, thinks the reach of sunlight for rued, and knows when eden...?
the tart envy of could is here, to take the poke
presence of mind for a frog, that has jumped the keys in...
they thank the lover's
we sell the right to a new cache of honey
the bearing of salt in our fists for the night, where the forthright know clover
with the right lady luck the nature of silliness can, the tongue
radio's addicted to breath mints
TV's adding the nature of libertine efforts at vegetables
iron's add whether in the front of bedside manner of doctor lint
bread boxes adam with the neglect of a union of man and woman in severe hell...
like a triumphing ear to the grindstone
we found the secret to be, a chalky stare
of life in the setting of rued stones
the ancient should the terror of questioning the care...
passing the gravy on bacon hill, where the turtles sink in
the tarry of paint in the stages and the faces of creation, should with a hurrying
intellect and the needy stare of callous witness, has the moustache of the wind
where we were, the hair of a changed season in the eaves, the poor and the caring...
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Chimed Predators Ought Season`s, Tomorrow
Chimed Predators Ought Season`s, Tomorrow