WINE AND GATES
Callous Observation When Sour Is Clocks Kin?
death of a town
in my since, the truth of cowls and the fist of oil
worth than weak, the sound of risk in a merried pound
of new sight of Christian marvels, the first to loyal...
curiosity for the inanity of god
the choice of felt over the gesture of hinds
the roll of vague living for the sense of the giving, what?
is this world coming tonight, the press of questioned minds
tail and tale, the roving reason of rogues, to simplify the august need
of a risen specter of shown now and the deed of cowardice
this the reference of stone we were looking for, the method of heed
the rather with the rogue of seasons made, the drift of spice
in a man's name, for the freedom of excellency to share
the ridicule of blindness in the stalking of dour energies
the walking of breezes into a scantily formed lip, with its hair
this is the done, the method begun, the road to won, a speed
clever though a message to another land is, the each of the earth to remember
yonder flower of sated isolation and the act of treachery for a not
of wisdom to correct itself, the myth of Aldus presence for a round them, here
shapes of salt to mind for the case of illogical rhymes and the dolt of a lot?
tonight, we are the breath of business done well, with a calmer stranger
history has named such a briefness of spirits the care of a slenderer pipe
the talking and the balking of an island in time, the shame of another's danger
we have not, the chin or wind for a shadow to groom itself, the stomach for nyed
yule and the price of loves tool
the role of your heart is no longer a price of silence
the raving lunacy that made a fool for a christened boat, is but a rag's pool
found in the eye, of an ancient ambivalency for the sin of a changing...
in my since, the truth of cowls and the fist of oil
worth than weak, the sound of risk in a merried pound
of new sight of Christian marvels, the first to loyal...
curiosity for the inanity of god
the choice of felt over the gesture of hinds
the roll of vague living for the sense of the giving, what?
is this world coming tonight, the press of questioned minds
tail and tale, the roving reason of rogues, to simplify the august need
of a risen specter of shown now and the deed of cowardice
this the reference of stone we were looking for, the method of heed
the rather with the rogue of seasons made, the drift of spice
in a man's name, for the freedom of excellency to share
the ridicule of blindness in the stalking of dour energies
the walking of breezes into a scantily formed lip, with its hair
this is the done, the method begun, the road to won, a speed
clever though a message to another land is, the each of the earth to remember
yonder flower of sated isolation and the act of treachery for a not
of wisdom to correct itself, the myth of Aldus presence for a round them, here
shapes of salt to mind for the case of illogical rhymes and the dolt of a lot?
tonight, we are the breath of business done well, with a calmer stranger
history has named such a briefness of spirits the care of a slenderer pipe
the talking and the balking of an island in time, the shame of another's danger
we have not, the chin or wind for a shadow to groom itself, the stomach for nyed
yule and the price of loves tool
the role of your heart is no longer a price of silence
the raving lunacy that made a fool for a christened boat, is but a rag's pool
found in the eye, of an ancient ambivalency for the sin of a changing...
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Callous Observation When Sour Is Clocks Kin?
Callous Observation When Sour Is Clocks Kin?
