WINE AND GATES
Livid Thumbs We Dont Want No More, Have
young, the bracing smiles
in the mirth of the east, to find a king's feast?
the lucre you decide, the fun you made of debting rivals
toward the taken season, from here to eternal kisses
more than out, or found in the sound
of a new throat to guess the myths of order, in your lap
the wishes of the was, to finalize the cope in the terror's round
born to guidance and the misuse of a possessed hap
play or cleverer teeth
the naked future, in our sanity to less, devour
instinct for the more than ours, to subtly weep
pride is a vengeful knot, in the notes of warmth
pound to coward, the vice of promises and passion
is a lip with no honor for the scope of rage, we know is a turn of voices
to the spire of anger, in these steps toward youth ever lasting
the smell of cyanide is more than a family of curiosity, it is life's choices
hell, again and forever
the stare of misery in a toward breeze in the memory serves
yours
the moments are vaguely exhilarating, and the practice of nearness to lords nerves
here is a secret, from the belly of suggestion that has:
ice is yours to chew, in history or the burden of the irony
mine are a fruiting pear that has the count of charity in the spying of what was
the method to aspirin in the satanic form of a new bell for contrary
time to tell the truth, to a dearly departed smile
the catch of fear in every step, to know the since of a dried tear
isn't the tooth of parody and the season of implore you made, in a questioned light
soon to clarity's lips for a sugar and the moments of gall, this is your year...
pale in the end, tales and the price of hunger in your mind
over here in the smitten lips of condition, the courage of avarice to need
the more of a mother, to collect the neglect of youth's option, in signs
the martyrs of here and now, in a yearning eye, will know the freed...
in the mirth of the east, to find a king's feast?
the lucre you decide, the fun you made of debting rivals
toward the taken season, from here to eternal kisses
more than out, or found in the sound
of a new throat to guess the myths of order, in your lap
the wishes of the was, to finalize the cope in the terror's round
born to guidance and the misuse of a possessed hap
play or cleverer teeth
the naked future, in our sanity to less, devour
instinct for the more than ours, to subtly weep
pride is a vengeful knot, in the notes of warmth
pound to coward, the vice of promises and passion
is a lip with no honor for the scope of rage, we know is a turn of voices
to the spire of anger, in these steps toward youth ever lasting
the smell of cyanide is more than a family of curiosity, it is life's choices
hell, again and forever
the stare of misery in a toward breeze in the memory serves
yours
the moments are vaguely exhilarating, and the practice of nearness to lords nerves
here is a secret, from the belly of suggestion that has:
ice is yours to chew, in history or the burden of the irony
mine are a fruiting pear that has the count of charity in the spying of what was
the method to aspirin in the satanic form of a new bell for contrary
time to tell the truth, to a dearly departed smile
the catch of fear in every step, to know the since of a dried tear
isn't the tooth of parody and the season of implore you made, in a questioned light
soon to clarity's lips for a sugar and the moments of gall, this is your year...
pale in the end, tales and the price of hunger in your mind
over here in the smitten lips of condition, the courage of avarice to need
the more of a mother, to collect the neglect of youth's option, in signs
the martyrs of here and now, in a yearning eye, will know the freed...
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Livid Thumbs We Dont Want No More, Have
Livid Thumbs We Dont Want No More, Have
