WINE AND GATES
Knotty Courage In The Mirror, For An OurSelves
blatant, a time with you
the tiger in the sound of sheep and the coming day
the salt of the earth with an eye to cue
for the sense in a philosophy of sourly made any
does luck have lovely legs?
the nature of need in the sorrow we shared, is a pretty host
the take of youth in the blossoms of rhymes and try's hidden
pass for the fast lips of curiosity, the passion is warm and moist
cards with a dim sheen, trying the door
is a wage of simplicity for a saner tongue, the toes of yearning
form in our hearts, for a lively turn to fair, in war
with a place of courage that said the soul burning...
metaphors for a drunk silliness with a noise for each?
does this lucky reason have the sense to live in the times light?
maybe the dour need of sugar is our vanity, the tea of bones to beseech
cool tears in the tall grass of charity, that knew the might...
but do you remember the strangeness of our first meeting?
the till of a clock with a juice for nerves, the sack of fruit we intoned
is a honest reply to a cowards cup of hell's brew, seething
in the language of our forefather's; the press, the priest, the magic pony
silence for a friendship in the liberty of shame
oddity to control the neglect of dense issues of those rather, insane
madness in the talk of culture for a pious lip, where origins of live are a hates aim
a few more than yesterday, with the limits of unity to account the way
all for a wall of spirits and trust, the terror of humiliation
embarrassed as a bird in hand can be, is still is the chance of more
where the lore of damnation has a golden eye for us, the politeness of skin
is a patient dragon, there in the thoughts of pride of a simplicity to find, order...
to a burden of chaos, the thought of symmetry, as a wind of change has seen...
acumen and dirt, to kneel upon the days words, of a thin kiss in the grab of others
the pride of blindness, to serve a majestic egg of differences worth, soul and mean
we have shown the myriad futures of a song long since gone, to wishes of bother
penny is found, penny is sound...
like the tart essence in the dim past, pining for destiny
the part of martyrs and the heretic of glee, that stole a hearts pound
the image of Christian sires for the duty in the wine, of a heeds eulogy...
the tiger in the sound of sheep and the coming day
the salt of the earth with an eye to cue
for the sense in a philosophy of sourly made any
does luck have lovely legs?
the nature of need in the sorrow we shared, is a pretty host
the take of youth in the blossoms of rhymes and try's hidden
pass for the fast lips of curiosity, the passion is warm and moist
cards with a dim sheen, trying the door
is a wage of simplicity for a saner tongue, the toes of yearning
form in our hearts, for a lively turn to fair, in war
with a place of courage that said the soul burning...
metaphors for a drunk silliness with a noise for each?
does this lucky reason have the sense to live in the times light?
maybe the dour need of sugar is our vanity, the tea of bones to beseech
cool tears in the tall grass of charity, that knew the might...
but do you remember the strangeness of our first meeting?
the till of a clock with a juice for nerves, the sack of fruit we intoned
is a honest reply to a cowards cup of hell's brew, seething
in the language of our forefather's; the press, the priest, the magic pony
silence for a friendship in the liberty of shame
oddity to control the neglect of dense issues of those rather, insane
madness in the talk of culture for a pious lip, where origins of live are a hates aim
a few more than yesterday, with the limits of unity to account the way
all for a wall of spirits and trust, the terror of humiliation
embarrassed as a bird in hand can be, is still is the chance of more
where the lore of damnation has a golden eye for us, the politeness of skin
is a patient dragon, there in the thoughts of pride of a simplicity to find, order...
to a burden of chaos, the thought of symmetry, as a wind of change has seen...
acumen and dirt, to kneel upon the days words, of a thin kiss in the grab of others
the pride of blindness, to serve a majestic egg of differences worth, soul and mean
we have shown the myriad futures of a song long since gone, to wishes of bother
penny is found, penny is sound...
like the tart essence in the dim past, pining for destiny
the part of martyrs and the heretic of glee, that stole a hearts pound
the image of Christian sires for the duty in the wine, of a heeds eulogy...
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Knotty Courage In The Mirror, For An OurSelves
Knotty Courage In The Mirror, For An OurSelves
