WINE AND GATES
Truer By Hate, But I Eat It With Salt's Dreaming?
disturbance, degenerate, done
milk in the nose of a God, never heard
but the toil of shame and the jaundiced view of some
to view the briefness or the very, intent of suicide in yours, weird
the logic of toothsome noise in our vantage, the truth
for you for the next of kindred, hell before the senses
to live or relinquish ... why don't you have the time of your life, who'th?
is to survive the touch of another, means to an end, for the beginning...
of a harvest of love in the name of suggestion and the menial tasks of every day, held
for the suspense of cold and noted miracles of somehow, we are done
sleek or meant with the focus of another, helled
the poison you souled is all and any more, the next chapter in the sake, of come
degenerate?
the point is this, the chances of minds and the took spirits we adore
are a firm heart in the shame of others, the very tools of joy to know for sate
the click and pop of nothing deemed for anywhere but here, the salt in your war...
complete the check, select the sex, reelect the next, the sorrow of notion is might
to keep but a friend in the stir of things to come, here is your share of done, gone
disturb the voice of history itself, and nothing beyond the vices of others will be sight
of a lord about anything that has, the right to make its own way, with simplicity somed
terrified by the sound of your own? make love it all and itself
sharing the dreams of virtue for the now and later? bequeath the chances of doom for heed
mating the smile with the melting heart of demand, for your shape of kingdom long? still
caring for a secret in the since of seasons for the rest of the waiting here? try the children
souls without...
the tartness of journeys to skill of depends and the wrent shyness of liberty, shoulder's
of kind and helping shall to climb but the shadows of not themselves, you being pout
the miracle of neglect of survival in our midst was more than that, it was all your's...
inheritance of bright minds that could
a lip of since for sincerity made, to keep but a have of you
memory or myriad served, the coping of burden and the burnt facts in the prescience, would
the misery of duty to a void of calling more, these prepared eyes of such, haven't looked ...
milk in the nose of a God, never heard
but the toil of shame and the jaundiced view of some
to view the briefness or the very, intent of suicide in yours, weird
the logic of toothsome noise in our vantage, the truth
for you for the next of kindred, hell before the senses
to live or relinquish ... why don't you have the time of your life, who'th?
is to survive the touch of another, means to an end, for the beginning...
of a harvest of love in the name of suggestion and the menial tasks of every day, held
for the suspense of cold and noted miracles of somehow, we are done
sleek or meant with the focus of another, helled
the poison you souled is all and any more, the next chapter in the sake, of come
degenerate?
the point is this, the chances of minds and the took spirits we adore
are a firm heart in the shame of others, the very tools of joy to know for sate
the click and pop of nothing deemed for anywhere but here, the salt in your war...
complete the check, select the sex, reelect the next, the sorrow of notion is might
to keep but a friend in the stir of things to come, here is your share of done, gone
disturb the voice of history itself, and nothing beyond the vices of others will be sight
of a lord about anything that has, the right to make its own way, with simplicity somed
terrified by the sound of your own? make love it all and itself
sharing the dreams of virtue for the now and later? bequeath the chances of doom for heed
mating the smile with the melting heart of demand, for your shape of kingdom long? still
caring for a secret in the since of seasons for the rest of the waiting here? try the children
souls without...
the tartness of journeys to skill of depends and the wrent shyness of liberty, shoulder's
of kind and helping shall to climb but the shadows of not themselves, you being pout
the miracle of neglect of survival in our midst was more than that, it was all your's...
inheritance of bright minds that could
a lip of since for sincerity made, to keep but a have of you
memory or myriad served, the coping of burden and the burnt facts in the prescience, would
the misery of duty to a void of calling more, these prepared eyes of such, haven't looked ...
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Truer By Hate, But I Eat It With Salt`s Dreaming?
Truer By Hate, But I Eat It With Salt`s Dreaming?
