WINE AND GATES
Life With A Prophet, In The Can Of Sorts Taken
brave new world
time to shine, time to find
the scurrilous with an our, tomorrow is ours for a gird
the song to deliver and the mar of honesty to requite, oh what a kind...
lists and fish to overwhelm the senses
exaction in the pale places and faces that tell
the world to be, an act of dumbness for ought, sincerity at suspenses
tried with the soldiering of wisdom, the tale to excuse is all, and well
barbs of duty to finish that day, wanton expertise
of condition in a whole way, the mirth of domain for decency and hither to, earn
of a question in five fold explain, the soul of duress in the mourning of dimnesses ease
habits and birds of a feather, hearts and briefness come, for wishes are the voice to burn
hello, many names may take the point
but the shrill sound of an accepting scream is somewhere else, for a curiosity
to serve the void, of composure fell, the anger of nuance to select the joy, won't
we see the salvation of ceasing seasons, to develop a taste for the breath of virtuosity?
good bye, my voice has cracked, the martyrdom of excess in our grasp, I choose to do, more
livid creation of a fact for the small of heed, kissed by the moreover
to know the steps of change with a hardy hap, the muses of virtue to clean their way, to worth
in these ways do we know, the mercy of others, the ever and the craving of saving, we learn...
are ours no longer...
the told nose of vision to calm, with qualms of vestiges box, who is to be a guard or a guest?
playing the fool will cost the many, aye, the hours until the witnessed fury of languages were
poise or pride to sense the catch of throat we make, the ours of our answer are forout the quest
simple reasons for rhyming seasons
the clash of antipathy with the marriage of knowing, the obvious lip of circumstance
we compare, we see to a deliberations seer, we examine the myth of method over must come
what has happened, what is to be if I show the may to verily, any soul who would take a glance?
welcome to your own age
the silly way we succor in front of a keeping notion, the means to misery worth our candor
is this conscience for the palace of a lord, or is whimsy to be as poor winds in a rage?
count the years with care, say I, the turn of a single ear from us, and races seek the mere
time to shine, time to find
the scurrilous with an our, tomorrow is ours for a gird
the song to deliver and the mar of honesty to requite, oh what a kind...
lists and fish to overwhelm the senses
exaction in the pale places and faces that tell
the world to be, an act of dumbness for ought, sincerity at suspenses
tried with the soldiering of wisdom, the tale to excuse is all, and well
barbs of duty to finish that day, wanton expertise
of condition in a whole way, the mirth of domain for decency and hither to, earn
of a question in five fold explain, the soul of duress in the mourning of dimnesses ease
habits and birds of a feather, hearts and briefness come, for wishes are the voice to burn
hello, many names may take the point
but the shrill sound of an accepting scream is somewhere else, for a curiosity
to serve the void, of composure fell, the anger of nuance to select the joy, won't
we see the salvation of ceasing seasons, to develop a taste for the breath of virtuosity?
good bye, my voice has cracked, the martyrdom of excess in our grasp, I choose to do, more
livid creation of a fact for the small of heed, kissed by the moreover
to know the steps of change with a hardy hap, the muses of virtue to clean their way, to worth
in these ways do we know, the mercy of others, the ever and the craving of saving, we learn...
are ours no longer...
the told nose of vision to calm, with qualms of vestiges box, who is to be a guard or a guest?
playing the fool will cost the many, aye, the hours until the witnessed fury of languages were
poise or pride to sense the catch of throat we make, the ours of our answer are forout the quest
simple reasons for rhyming seasons
the clash of antipathy with the marriage of knowing, the obvious lip of circumstance
we compare, we see to a deliberations seer, we examine the myth of method over must come
what has happened, what is to be if I show the may to verily, any soul who would take a glance?
welcome to your own age
the silly way we succor in front of a keeping notion, the means to misery worth our candor
is this conscience for the palace of a lord, or is whimsy to be as poor winds in a rage?
count the years with care, say I, the turn of a single ear from us, and races seek the mere
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Life With A Prophet, In The Can Of Sorts Taken
Life With A Prophet, In The Can Of Sorts Taken
