WINE AND GATES
Because The Sweeter Sweat Is On Toast
hence to the dim forth
frequent lips of chaste, surmised with a taste
for the kind of future you want to worth
boxes, and candles and a kiss in haste
the truth in passion
with a mortal coil of need, is the bearer of bad tidings
the simple trait of kindness for a guidance lasting
is the here and now, the blessing of fears siding?
exciting?
requiem of virtue?
wasn't the taste of vows ever greater, than for a pace of misery
patience to a faster liberty of form, on cue
fetish versus vindication, in a poised heart said
the fever of ordeals in a meager fist of notoriety
we suggest the body electric, for a single kick in the head
breeds of sincerity want to know, what do you see?
the touched mind of time
vehement to a fault, if that is possible
the martyr of a comely clock, in the fish of verdant sinc and rhyme
all for a question on the lips of lovers, where is wrung a better hell?
maybe some other time?
maybe some more time, however...
the press of skills in the can of urgency is for a sly...
pay for the pride some other time, we are the used, never...
who is to be a lion before the salt of a lambs regret?
the taste was for you, the cult of knowing the force of honor's teeth
in the heed of could the should have a suit of mercy met
in the pace of religion we know, the tally of unions to be the liberty
blood for the now in the naked assault of a toe
prices of calm and the tools of peace as shrewd will, the pill of conscience
is a lover with a noose around their neck, the hero of also and the woe
of simplicity for grace and style, the more of anxiety is to prove prescience
but then the kiss was a black morass of vestiges of the knot
the life of a drama in the pocket of youth, was a twist of remnancy
these peculiar stars and the warmth of infinite kind, is a paradise made to rot
in the place of sedition in the eyes of a marriage of fidelity
all for a wisdom in the can, of seldom that is, the seed of nourished minds
the torture of pure faces, the torch of passing mayhem
the thought of sanctions on waiting for the witness of philosophies of dark times
may a light never be sudden for an evil city, the choice of still judging the alien
just how much of this can you take?
the lips of instance were a sinister flush of succor for a symbol of days
not a device, but the liberty of hands let, the waters of triumph now bitter and fake
the sun setting, the moon making, a façade of memory for lips thought once how, then sates
frequent lips of chaste, surmised with a taste
for the kind of future you want to worth
boxes, and candles and a kiss in haste
the truth in passion
with a mortal coil of need, is the bearer of bad tidings
the simple trait of kindness for a guidance lasting
is the here and now, the blessing of fears siding?
exciting?
requiem of virtue?
wasn't the taste of vows ever greater, than for a pace of misery
patience to a faster liberty of form, on cue
fetish versus vindication, in a poised heart said
the fever of ordeals in a meager fist of notoriety
we suggest the body electric, for a single kick in the head
breeds of sincerity want to know, what do you see?
the touched mind of time
vehement to a fault, if that is possible
the martyr of a comely clock, in the fish of verdant sinc and rhyme
all for a question on the lips of lovers, where is wrung a better hell?
maybe some other time?
maybe some more time, however...
the press of skills in the can of urgency is for a sly...
pay for the pride some other time, we are the used, never...
who is to be a lion before the salt of a lambs regret?
the taste was for you, the cult of knowing the force of honor's teeth
in the heed of could the should have a suit of mercy met
in the pace of religion we know, the tally of unions to be the liberty
blood for the now in the naked assault of a toe
prices of calm and the tools of peace as shrewd will, the pill of conscience
is a lover with a noose around their neck, the hero of also and the woe
of simplicity for grace and style, the more of anxiety is to prove prescience
but then the kiss was a black morass of vestiges of the knot
the life of a drama in the pocket of youth, was a twist of remnancy
these peculiar stars and the warmth of infinite kind, is a paradise made to rot
in the place of sedition in the eyes of a marriage of fidelity
all for a wisdom in the can, of seldom that is, the seed of nourished minds
the torture of pure faces, the torch of passing mayhem
the thought of sanctions on waiting for the witness of philosophies of dark times
may a light never be sudden for an evil city, the choice of still judging the alien
just how much of this can you take?
the lips of instance were a sinister flush of succor for a symbol of days
not a device, but the liberty of hands let, the waters of triumph now bitter and fake
the sun setting, the moon making, a façade of memory for lips thought once how, then sates
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Because The Sweeter Sweat Is On Toast
Because The Sweeter Sweat Is On Toast