WINE AND GATES
Chin In The Sand, When It Belongs To You
pot to poison, the knock of a villian's door
wonder in the mine, west for a sulking duress
the patience of dim rhymes in the next of salt, to come for a war
pride before sanity, hate before shame, the wink of a courage to lessen
with the wind we name the stones
brazen confusion if but for a kiss, the telling for the shadows
is to is, the myth of redeeming toes, the knowledge of a course loan
to the nose, the breeds of choice to find the fame of nary the brows
told, to a driven mind
these words are poor indeed
the curt with the speed of change, in the times
future towns and the same for wounds, the gift of she'd
bride in your mirror, to the knowledge of cursed mines
the role of vision and the ache of very for but a moment, than gone
now is the greater toll of a virulent bell, the sanity of each depends upon hinds
sacred or fed a shape in the sea, the sin of gone is for those that have the money
taint the silence, timed with a house of pining turns
for the questions in blessing, the miles until spare
the future in your sighs if to conscience is a brief earns
the minutes until the smiles of gaining the hold of a clique to care
wonder in the mine, west for a sulking duress
the patience of dim rhymes in the next of salt, to come for a war
pride before sanity, hate before shame, the wink of a courage to lessen
with the wind we name the stones
brazen confusion if but for a kiss, the telling for the shadows
is to is, the myth of redeeming toes, the knowledge of a course loan
to the nose, the breeds of choice to find the fame of nary the brows
told, to a driven mind
these words are poor indeed
the curt with the speed of change, in the times
future towns and the same for wounds, the gift of she'd
bride in your mirror, to the knowledge of cursed mines
the role of vision and the ache of very for but a moment, than gone
now is the greater toll of a virulent bell, the sanity of each depends upon hinds
sacred or fed a shape in the sea, the sin of gone is for those that have the money
taint the silence, timed with a house of pining turns
for the questions in blessing, the miles until spare
the future in your sighs if to conscience is a brief earns
the minutes until the smiles of gaining the hold of a clique to care
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Chin In The Sand, When It Belongs To You
Chin In The Sand, When It Belongs To You
