WINE AND GATES
Society Or Nightmare, How Our Oblivion Did
dim or numb, I know you
low to the lift of the land
with a salt in the eye, for who
if the count of fair and a belly's stare, leave a hand?
shared to give, shapes of confirmation
in the tears we expound, the tally of a martyr
in the grace of sojourns of levity, the doom of certain
ways with the seen, the keen edge of a care, is to learn...?
the blind versus the cause
the censate lip of justice, to weave and to earnestly keep
for a simpler day, in the passion we found
the nature of simplicity is still the ache of a knife, dug deep?
care is a lords leap, the till of headstrong juice and the movement of call
from the uttered tongue of sublime essence, the need of could
in the stir of deem, and the heart of situations meant, if not to all
the sound of youth, in the muttering wind, to delve to the quick, the lewd
pain is such a simple face to kiss, the myth of semblances of seed
the kind of neglect we made for a sorrow in the tart of sates that defye
imitated with a purer knuckle and the generation of selection for redress
this uncanny breath of silence and the mystery of machines, is a worm to why?
tall is a tree without a name, but nicks make it remember it well
futures of sides of dilemma for a salt, in the tongue of aids
why is a lifting day the message to sincerity as we are, the image of life's bell
from here to eternity, the fruit of sense for a penny whence, the irony of its fate?
a kiss indeed, for the philosophy of a here and now meet
hence and method in your view, the meagerer the begin, the more we are a head
of similarity to the now, the mistake of cold over hot, the message to it
was to live for a dream in the siring of a new chaste, as we turn our said...
glaring at the sun, will cost you the integrity of a city
marrying the nor with a song foreign, is to lapse into a bitter light
carrying the soul of a judge in the spill of time we call a hill, asking's litany
pairing the will of the world with many, if not anyhow, hell's burden, is a right
low to the lift of the land
with a salt in the eye, for who
if the count of fair and a belly's stare, leave a hand?
shared to give, shapes of confirmation
in the tears we expound, the tally of a martyr
in the grace of sojourns of levity, the doom of certain
ways with the seen, the keen edge of a care, is to learn...?
the blind versus the cause
the censate lip of justice, to weave and to earnestly keep
for a simpler day, in the passion we found
the nature of simplicity is still the ache of a knife, dug deep?
care is a lords leap, the till of headstrong juice and the movement of call
from the uttered tongue of sublime essence, the need of could
in the stir of deem, and the heart of situations meant, if not to all
the sound of youth, in the muttering wind, to delve to the quick, the lewd
pain is such a simple face to kiss, the myth of semblances of seed
the kind of neglect we made for a sorrow in the tart of sates that defye
imitated with a purer knuckle and the generation of selection for redress
this uncanny breath of silence and the mystery of machines, is a worm to why?
tall is a tree without a name, but nicks make it remember it well
futures of sides of dilemma for a salt, in the tongue of aids
why is a lifting day the message to sincerity as we are, the image of life's bell
from here to eternity, the fruit of sense for a penny whence, the irony of its fate?
a kiss indeed, for the philosophy of a here and now meet
hence and method in your view, the meagerer the begin, the more we are a head
of similarity to the now, the mistake of cold over hot, the message to it
was to live for a dream in the siring of a new chaste, as we turn our said...
glaring at the sun, will cost you the integrity of a city
marrying the nor with a song foreign, is to lapse into a bitter light
carrying the soul of a judge in the spill of time we call a hill, asking's litany
pairing the will of the world with many, if not anyhow, hell's burden, is a right
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Society Or Nightmare, How Our Oblivion Did
Society Or Nightmare, How Our Oblivion Did