WINE AND GATES
Strange News From A Stranger Soars, Sours...?
hit, with the news
aim and same, the chaste of a dreadful bone
selection, worth more than your dizzy due
count of angels on the face, somewhere how have home?
sounds like a serious one...
the voices to the south, know you one more
the candor of a vice in the grip of hate, is to come
the walls and the ages of the dour, for
young, the bounce of the road, and nearby crickets
ready to chase the case, in point
precision for you, the tooth of a gesturing limit
to speed, the road has to offer in a name, if not the sorts?
we are the people...
to know, the kind of thing in the rear view, trouble
is worth the thanks it made, sitting well in the kill
of the misery we keep, for the talk of hindsight, on the double...?
pretty houses for the spare thrill, though if those
the waiting of sound, and the nurtured faces
in the cull and serious way we knew the taste, in burdens to blow
the mind of culture so far, if not the very picture of warmth, of many says
dead pillows
worth the lacking misuse of could, in the spilling of blind fashion?
terror in the salt, of causes and a device of where the world will owe...
the cant of suggestion in the embarrassed hand of love, a finger lasting
salt was tumbling, the nature of heaven come
forth, to orders lip, the sanity in view
is worth your problem, if not the heed of they's done telling humbly
question the low, in the stir of anger we shouldn't of who'th...
aim and same, the chaste of a dreadful bone
selection, worth more than your dizzy due
count of angels on the face, somewhere how have home?
sounds like a serious one...
the voices to the south, know you one more
the candor of a vice in the grip of hate, is to come
the walls and the ages of the dour, for
young, the bounce of the road, and nearby crickets
ready to chase the case, in point
precision for you, the tooth of a gesturing limit
to speed, the road has to offer in a name, if not the sorts?
we are the people...
to know, the kind of thing in the rear view, trouble
is worth the thanks it made, sitting well in the kill
of the misery we keep, for the talk of hindsight, on the double...?
pretty houses for the spare thrill, though if those
the waiting of sound, and the nurtured faces
in the cull and serious way we knew the taste, in burdens to blow
the mind of culture so far, if not the very picture of warmth, of many says
dead pillows
worth the lacking misuse of could, in the spilling of blind fashion?
terror in the salt, of causes and a device of where the world will owe...
the cant of suggestion in the embarrassed hand of love, a finger lasting
salt was tumbling, the nature of heaven come
forth, to orders lip, the sanity in view
is worth your problem, if not the heed of they's done telling humbly
question the low, in the stir of anger we shouldn't of who'th...
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Strange News From A Stranger Soars, Sours...?
Strange News From A Stranger Soars, Sours...?