WINE AND GATES
Whether Salts Of Courage Are The Poor, World?
days of sorry pages
in the book of noses, we say the redemption of milk
the right to lovers in the curses of another ages...
is the rage of justice to come, for a lip to know the wilting...
of a fortune in sanctimonious levity, the tale to tell
is your city a furious wall of demons and the catch of a throat
the night of a solemn prayer, to the wishes in the well
we select the today with a caring eye for the fear of Noah...
an arcing metal, the tooth of anguish we all suspect of regret
is like a furious soul, that tool of unity to find the seed
the riches of unction for compunction is a place to know, the seldom seen let
of a reason in the dark of humanity, the face of copious need
the reasons come and go with a bird of opportunity for a smile in the cup, of cyanide
we see, we being, we deem the tripe of courage in the weird stillness of a horizon
that thing of neglect is a rarity to encounter, until water is found in the lyed
during such a small error of collected eyes in the tell of avidity, audacity is a sun
with a name for you...
with a head of appropriate cause for each candor of patience...
with a game for the future of sophistication, via who'm...
with a some for same, in the mouth of rubber, talc and the age of chins...
pride in the name of a Christian song ... ?
the watchers of toes in the eaves of destiny we made, for a begging lip
time with madnesses of ordeals best left to history for a quiet room
in the city of dolls, you read it well I will say once, but the end is still the sip...
of a cold bird under the heavy moon of penchance for a penny that tickled the nose
maybe you were, the turn of a solidarity for an our of couth, that lead to more teeth
than a body has a right to know, for the moment of collapse of senses into those
burdens of lovers in the wilds of notice, to collect a lover for each pet...
tiny and brittle , a thumb with a sovereign silk to its way and step for the pardon
of culture and the achy joy in the tradition of a wild face to live for a new story
isn't the toe of season mine, for a quiet pace in the days eyes for out warrin'
this nose knows the prescience you made, like the brow of a simplicity to be query's...
pies of urges in the burning question of a city in the might of shadows
are we what we war, myth and vinegar of subsiding ideas of justice for a disparity
to the fames of unction we kept, for a lover and the tone of a voice with how's
the waters we share, are we the vogue of an eye of lesser fish, the cause of charity...
in the book of noses, we say the redemption of milk
the right to lovers in the curses of another ages...
is the rage of justice to come, for a lip to know the wilting...
of a fortune in sanctimonious levity, the tale to tell
is your city a furious wall of demons and the catch of a throat
the night of a solemn prayer, to the wishes in the well
we select the today with a caring eye for the fear of Noah...
an arcing metal, the tooth of anguish we all suspect of regret
is like a furious soul, that tool of unity to find the seed
the riches of unction for compunction is a place to know, the seldom seen let
of a reason in the dark of humanity, the face of copious need
the reasons come and go with a bird of opportunity for a smile in the cup, of cyanide
we see, we being, we deem the tripe of courage in the weird stillness of a horizon
that thing of neglect is a rarity to encounter, until water is found in the lyed
during such a small error of collected eyes in the tell of avidity, audacity is a sun
with a name for you...
with a head of appropriate cause for each candor of patience...
with a game for the future of sophistication, via who'm...
with a some for same, in the mouth of rubber, talc and the age of chins...
pride in the name of a Christian song ... ?
the watchers of toes in the eaves of destiny we made, for a begging lip
time with madnesses of ordeals best left to history for a quiet room
in the city of dolls, you read it well I will say once, but the end is still the sip...
of a cold bird under the heavy moon of penchance for a penny that tickled the nose
maybe you were, the turn of a solidarity for an our of couth, that lead to more teeth
than a body has a right to know, for the moment of collapse of senses into those
burdens of lovers in the wilds of notice, to collect a lover for each pet...
tiny and brittle , a thumb with a sovereign silk to its way and step for the pardon
of culture and the achy joy in the tradition of a wild face to live for a new story
isn't the toe of season mine, for a quiet pace in the days eyes for out warrin'
this nose knows the prescience you made, like the brow of a simplicity to be query's...
pies of urges in the burning question of a city in the might of shadows
are we what we war, myth and vinegar of subsiding ideas of justice for a disparity
to the fames of unction we kept, for a lover and the tone of a voice with how's
the waters we share, are we the vogue of an eye of lesser fish, the cause of charity...
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Whether Salts Of Courage Are The Poor, World?
Whether Salts Of Courage Are The Poor, World?
