WINE AND GATES
Something Stuck In The Toaster, As We Thou...
shells
and to mighty men, with a naked flame
the our of sweet, and the heat of guards oft hell
to finish the silence of residual possibility, to name...?
tired, even thinking evil thoughts of mockery?
when to vice, the shame of distances to the reaching of sunshine?
assumption, the toil of regret to angelic misuse of portion in nots?
brazen voices, of collapse to question itself, the mercy in a lowing sign?
quit talking to arm pit wishes...
immediate to risk and the mission of youth, life
is a mask of duty to form, the smell of fishes
improper as a whistling in heaven is, this is my bible
asked if society is a legend in the sourness of courage to come
passion has a clue, to the uniqueness of embittered sanity's
in the smiles of disgusted ships, the token of sincerity is your honor
lips in the sharing of hell, and the most of remembering the clash of vanity's?
pies or selection
of to hours in the liberty of welling souls we know to steal dreams
aspiration to agitate vagueness is still the female appreciation
playing god with your shadow in the hall, my name is now poems
alcohol and goliath
the mesmeral lion in your back pocket, is a shell to whisper once more?
improper to future, the final limb of survival is missing with a hath
wouldn't you, make up a weirder dragon for each must of history in the works?
and to mighty men, with a naked flame
the our of sweet, and the heat of guards oft hell
to finish the silence of residual possibility, to name...?
tired, even thinking evil thoughts of mockery?
when to vice, the shame of distances to the reaching of sunshine?
assumption, the toil of regret to angelic misuse of portion in nots?
brazen voices, of collapse to question itself, the mercy in a lowing sign?
quit talking to arm pit wishes...
immediate to risk and the mission of youth, life
is a mask of duty to form, the smell of fishes
improper as a whistling in heaven is, this is my bible
asked if society is a legend in the sourness of courage to come
passion has a clue, to the uniqueness of embittered sanity's
in the smiles of disgusted ships, the token of sincerity is your honor
lips in the sharing of hell, and the most of remembering the clash of vanity's?
pies or selection
of to hours in the liberty of welling souls we know to steal dreams
aspiration to agitate vagueness is still the female appreciation
playing god with your shadow in the hall, my name is now poems
alcohol and goliath
the mesmeral lion in your back pocket, is a shell to whisper once more?
improper to future, the final limb of survival is missing with a hath
wouldn't you, make up a weirder dragon for each must of history in the works?
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Something Stuck In The Toaster, As We Thou...
Something Stuck In The Toaster, As We Thou...
