WINE AND GATES
Sated Done Weighted, Sanity Dumb Wouldn't
hind, sorrow for till
in the hands of a beloved note
the terror you made, for a question of will
isn't the tried dare of courage for wishes of the sort...?
pie in the heart, pining for the head
the role of sincerity has you by a collar
the walking dread oft time, in the hurt eyes of said
i'm the thought of the future, in lucre we follow...
purpose in the grasp of very, the marriage of salt
is this toe of worlds away, the climb of the heathen
to the nary of duress, in the hill, in the fault
of succor with an earth, questions answered by the leaving
gaping mouths will survive the dim damnation of seclusion
of the facts of father's and the mother of intervention, this glove
is a while of handsome nerves, in the stir of anger that has the intrusion
of a waiting crime of voices, the taken straight of shame to hover
in the end they knew the total, of lemons and the dried legend of baby should
the asking of misery, the rigor of solemn chance for a power in the panic
of works of similarity to the nursing, of callous bones in the way of would
persuaded with a least, a disciple of vantage in the sires of youth to be, sick
your umbrella and my candle
yet a living angel, the terror of sin
is a reality of vision via virtue, the neglect of mores to handle
the doles of such, we conclude for a day of agents of kin
in the hands of a beloved note
the terror you made, for a question of will
isn't the tried dare of courage for wishes of the sort...?
pie in the heart, pining for the head
the role of sincerity has you by a collar
the walking dread oft time, in the hurt eyes of said
i'm the thought of the future, in lucre we follow...
purpose in the grasp of very, the marriage of salt
is this toe of worlds away, the climb of the heathen
to the nary of duress, in the hill, in the fault
of succor with an earth, questions answered by the leaving
gaping mouths will survive the dim damnation of seclusion
of the facts of father's and the mother of intervention, this glove
is a while of handsome nerves, in the stir of anger that has the intrusion
of a waiting crime of voices, the taken straight of shame to hover
in the end they knew the total, of lemons and the dried legend of baby should
the asking of misery, the rigor of solemn chance for a power in the panic
of works of similarity to the nursing, of callous bones in the way of would
persuaded with a least, a disciple of vantage in the sires of youth to be, sick
your umbrella and my candle
yet a living angel, the terror of sin
is a reality of vision via virtue, the neglect of mores to handle
the doles of such, we conclude for a day of agents of kin
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Sated Done Weighted, Sanity Dumb Wouldn`t
Sated Done Weighted, Sanity Dumb Wouldn`t
