WINE AND GATES
Limes With Minds To Kiss Seldom Besoughten...
art for the singing mountains
the labor to quell, in the silence of paradise
for a more, than worth, the gift of ancients
these prides made clouds of a charge, the risen to, the wise
panic at a flower with a sudden name
the change of urges to the corner of the tongue, we hunger for a shame
in the sigh's and stead of a clue to the pining same
final leaves of a fall, of succor to give, aim
demons of dodge, domains of dead
the reason of unity in self, to the welfare of closer works
if conscience is a passion of the fingers of dread?
the image of sides of arms and the terror of silence, in the purpose
pretty Jerusalem...
petty dolls in the reach of souls without, anger
pity for a sand in the marks of faces for the craving of alien...
grapes of wrath, the pious and sour, the blind to keep danger
strange, a man with out services name
the irony of culture with a spice for the naked ruin
of courtesy in the slap of a face for the same
these marriages, these hunts, these spills of don't...
worthy, the form to a wind in the suspension of disbelief of a turned
hip in the scare of a lifetime, the roar of a lion
in a castle without a king, the problems of a question earned
a place for the firsts of second sight, wind, cities of cyanide...
morbid, the pace of a virtue in the salt of dimness for a moment than gold
thought the times, the naked reason of a hurrying child in the field of disbelief?
the maker of our minds to confirm the nature of silence to hold?
all for a music of neglect, that has the sense to finally wish for a grief
tried the authority of seldom, the place of a light to frame the moments of gifts
to the mercy we made, in the crash of mete yours has approved, the ear of should
the cradle of life be a sugary reply to needs either, in the adding order of hearts, lifts
of answers to God, the martyr of sullen many is still the reason of jude
judged an hour, the thicket of wishes for a new breath of futures in the truth
of a place in the story's and legends, of a ghost with a memory for angels
the space to deify another, for a tradition of completeness of couth
this sore mention of causes, is your food for thought a bell?
the labor to quell, in the silence of paradise
for a more, than worth, the gift of ancients
these prides made clouds of a charge, the risen to, the wise
panic at a flower with a sudden name
the change of urges to the corner of the tongue, we hunger for a shame
in the sigh's and stead of a clue to the pining same
final leaves of a fall, of succor to give, aim
demons of dodge, domains of dead
the reason of unity in self, to the welfare of closer works
if conscience is a passion of the fingers of dread?
the image of sides of arms and the terror of silence, in the purpose
pretty Jerusalem...
petty dolls in the reach of souls without, anger
pity for a sand in the marks of faces for the craving of alien...
grapes of wrath, the pious and sour, the blind to keep danger
strange, a man with out services name
the irony of culture with a spice for the naked ruin
of courtesy in the slap of a face for the same
these marriages, these hunts, these spills of don't...
worthy, the form to a wind in the suspension of disbelief of a turned
hip in the scare of a lifetime, the roar of a lion
in a castle without a king, the problems of a question earned
a place for the firsts of second sight, wind, cities of cyanide...
morbid, the pace of a virtue in the salt of dimness for a moment than gold
thought the times, the naked reason of a hurrying child in the field of disbelief?
the maker of our minds to confirm the nature of silence to hold?
all for a music of neglect, that has the sense to finally wish for a grief
tried the authority of seldom, the place of a light to frame the moments of gifts
to the mercy we made, in the crash of mete yours has approved, the ear of should
the cradle of life be a sugary reply to needs either, in the adding order of hearts, lifts
of answers to God, the martyr of sullen many is still the reason of jude
judged an hour, the thicket of wishes for a new breath of futures in the truth
of a place in the story's and legends, of a ghost with a memory for angels
the space to deify another, for a tradition of completeness of couth
this sore mention of causes, is your food for thought a bell?
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Limes With Minds To Kiss Seldom Besoughten...
Limes With Minds To Kiss Seldom Besoughten...
