WINE AND GATES
Clipping Hairs And Pastey Songs, Wouldn't...
habit of vengeance
to collect in the make of unity, we adore
the nary done well, of shapes of silence
does this cease of regret, in your fist, admit an odor?
partaking in the house of dreams, the ailing of sourness and the bareness of integrity
the unction of solace to keep, a reason of few in our ply
as halting doom and the smile of youth, to consider but a hand of entity
justice for a season of risen martyrs and the mores of hindsaying, is a wry why?
is it me or is someone with safety for assumption, in the target of use
of a brass and glass yawn, to compare in the similarity, of duties
that is a shared guests of deliberate places for fate, to question the mood
of unique and tawdry, spell of common sense and hips of shame, that would
corpulence of sanity to collect the dinge of urgency and heaviness of cull
that is an answer for the night, the tarry of cope to eschew, the taste of courage
in the face of solutions of deem and the escape of implied dates, is this house on a hill?
sharing the shame on a dreaming stone, a patient pillow or a final lift of tradition, nays
am I what I'm thinking of?
is this cough of deed and the ilk of suggestion, the martyr of a plant?
could I redirect the snow in your eyes, for a wage of youth in the topped out antipathy?
in my heart or in my hand, is this cup of apple cider the only way to get at your haunts?
clouds that name you a nation
rain that climbed instead of found bottom, in the nature of kingdom come
asked if lightning ever has a lover, didn't the walls of ornery sides, have patience
peculiarity or savage truth in toe, the way to chances of been and seen is a rogue shown?
to collect in the make of unity, we adore
the nary done well, of shapes of silence
does this cease of regret, in your fist, admit an odor?
partaking in the house of dreams, the ailing of sourness and the bareness of integrity
the unction of solace to keep, a reason of few in our ply
as halting doom and the smile of youth, to consider but a hand of entity
justice for a season of risen martyrs and the mores of hindsaying, is a wry why?
is it me or is someone with safety for assumption, in the target of use
of a brass and glass yawn, to compare in the similarity, of duties
that is a shared guests of deliberate places for fate, to question the mood
of unique and tawdry, spell of common sense and hips of shame, that would
corpulence of sanity to collect the dinge of urgency and heaviness of cull
that is an answer for the night, the tarry of cope to eschew, the taste of courage
in the face of solutions of deem and the escape of implied dates, is this house on a hill?
sharing the shame on a dreaming stone, a patient pillow or a final lift of tradition, nays
am I what I'm thinking of?
is this cough of deed and the ilk of suggestion, the martyr of a plant?
could I redirect the snow in your eyes, for a wage of youth in the topped out antipathy?
in my heart or in my hand, is this cup of apple cider the only way to get at your haunts?
clouds that name you a nation
rain that climbed instead of found bottom, in the nature of kingdom come
asked if lightning ever has a lover, didn't the walls of ornery sides, have patience
peculiarity or savage truth in toe, the way to chances of been and seen is a rogue shown?
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Clipping Hairs And Pastey Songs, Wouldn`t...
Clipping Hairs And Pastey Songs, Wouldn`t...
