WINE AND GATES
Never Knew A Friend With Soul's On The Outside
black sock, white sock
the tooth of our forefathers all in a rue
rows of sufficed fear, never mock...?
the care of rage is in your hand, past and future
double the time, for a salty add; an excuse
in negative times, is the will to assume a turn
of sires of life to these, the would, the disease for you
class is a subject best left to another world, to earn?
sallow, sorrow, soft insist of the sake
rid the sun of its musty irony, know the kiss of years
the tally of voices in the shape of a redoubt, to make
the poorer the torn eye, the greater the seeing
where have the feet of harmony been and done?
does this smile, of courtesy in the fame of stitches of sedition
make the dole of war, a place for the senses keen and come?
right to riches of heaven or the vague hell, a bitter intuition
complete the vice of your imagination, etc.
in the wishes of a used itch of notoriety in the eaves
the till of toes to remember, the point to the children
of where the truth begins, and the end, whether conceives
silly old guard and garrison of romances vestige
the patience of sincerity for the error of bedlam
has a quiet face taken your reward for a heritage
even though you still have, the reason rages on a whim
black sock, white sock
the truth in the wind is a seldom seen hand of notions to, hell
a good spate of rolling filth and the growth of a rock
does this smell like a fantasy come true, to acknowledge the world...
epitaph to a challenge of sour tongues on the verge of suicide
does this child of nothing more than a care in the mend
save you from it all, the throes or the throngs of misery wried
try the fate of care, for a new course in the land...
the tooth of our forefathers all in a rue
rows of sufficed fear, never mock...?
the care of rage is in your hand, past and future
double the time, for a salty add; an excuse
in negative times, is the will to assume a turn
of sires of life to these, the would, the disease for you
class is a subject best left to another world, to earn?
sallow, sorrow, soft insist of the sake
rid the sun of its musty irony, know the kiss of years
the tally of voices in the shape of a redoubt, to make
the poorer the torn eye, the greater the seeing
where have the feet of harmony been and done?
does this smile, of courtesy in the fame of stitches of sedition
make the dole of war, a place for the senses keen and come?
right to riches of heaven or the vague hell, a bitter intuition
complete the vice of your imagination, etc.
in the wishes of a used itch of notoriety in the eaves
the till of toes to remember, the point to the children
of where the truth begins, and the end, whether conceives
silly old guard and garrison of romances vestige
the patience of sincerity for the error of bedlam
has a quiet face taken your reward for a heritage
even though you still have, the reason rages on a whim
black sock, white sock
the truth in the wind is a seldom seen hand of notions to, hell
a good spate of rolling filth and the growth of a rock
does this smell like a fantasy come true, to acknowledge the world...
epitaph to a challenge of sour tongues on the verge of suicide
does this child of nothing more than a care in the mend
save you from it all, the throes or the throngs of misery wried
try the fate of care, for a new course in the land...
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Never Knew A Friend With Soul`s On The Outside
Never Knew A Friend With Soul`s On The Outside