WINE AND GATES
Higher Than Fear, Lower Than Just Minds
crass
the voice of demons on the laugh we enjoy
together, for the time to pass
savage, the cope of a knowing need, in the spoil
of court, faces and the injury of knowing
the toil of a courage, on this behalf
of some to come, for the rest of the poised, glowing
in the mar, of a suggestion for the rescued wrath
of a sincere toy, in the cold sand you add
the war with a silly core of sin, and the quintessential
place and the scar of the mad
the time of our lives is in the wings, of a brow, somehow alien
tall, the night ...
the luck of a kneading bird and its third of the city
you chose from the briefness of our summary might
the talk of suicide in the mind, the mind to talk to a sicker litany ...
cough, cough, choke and sulk
the mission of misery in your falling tears
the wake of a new chance with a pride, to finish the ant, hulk
over a sample of glory and who? the mention of dread nears
walls to name, the light of conscience found
for a sandy eye and the all of a suggested milk, in cream
is the in of our stink, the short order of a new sound?
for you a history in green sheets, for me the plant to steel?
wish?
upon a star named after you?
the till of any in our hands language and the mark of toil anew, is?
this chore of shame, the way to heart in the glory or in the glare of sanities glue?
time to weal, upon the scurrilous sight of a new mind
the sharing cold, the fairing hold, of lips of love
for you in the either, the poor of now, and the new of a here to kind
thoughts of shapes of semblance alive in the land, where a harvest of sovereignty ...
the voice of demons on the laugh we enjoy
together, for the time to pass
savage, the cope of a knowing need, in the spoil
of court, faces and the injury of knowing
the toil of a courage, on this behalf
of some to come, for the rest of the poised, glowing
in the mar, of a suggestion for the rescued wrath
of a sincere toy, in the cold sand you add
the war with a silly core of sin, and the quintessential
place and the scar of the mad
the time of our lives is in the wings, of a brow, somehow alien
tall, the night ...
the luck of a kneading bird and its third of the city
you chose from the briefness of our summary might
the talk of suicide in the mind, the mind to talk to a sicker litany ...
cough, cough, choke and sulk
the mission of misery in your falling tears
the wake of a new chance with a pride, to finish the ant, hulk
over a sample of glory and who? the mention of dread nears
walls to name, the light of conscience found
for a sandy eye and the all of a suggested milk, in cream
is the in of our stink, the short order of a new sound?
for you a history in green sheets, for me the plant to steel?
wish?
upon a star named after you?
the till of any in our hands language and the mark of toil anew, is?
this chore of shame, the way to heart in the glory or in the glare of sanities glue?
time to weal, upon the scurrilous sight of a new mind
the sharing cold, the fairing hold, of lips of love
for you in the either, the poor of now, and the new of a here to kind
thoughts of shapes of semblance alive in the land, where a harvest of sovereignty ...
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Higher Than Fear, Lower Than Just Minds
Higher Than Fear, Lower Than Just Minds
