WINE AND GATES
For Wins, Not Four Winds, That Knew Me For A Wink
urged none
token of our appreciation
tall and faultless, the short of it come
to those that can see, the new side of silence
prayers and fairs of notion, for you and me
the tale of success to equate, with a knowing glance
we conceive a herald for each, the poignancy of patience, accord and anarchy
so to a lisping lip of gestures in void or choice, we seek the chin of chance...
sour?
if to all in the regality of succor thus came, to excellency
if a habit of just, or more, the selection of wisdom for dour
these acts of vehemence and the alienation of decency from a pall, of increduality
setting with the times, we know a thing obvious
the terror of announced greatness and the patience it took
to compare the salt of understanding with a hair of a chance, is us
the tact of duty to a cloud of method we fell to earth with, the knowledge of pain forsook
where has a passing joy begun, or in its vernacular of vestige and the honor to collect
a heart of somber kind, well to do with a coping smile and the penchance of live all the while
we have selected more from the suppose and hold of credence that has come, for a soul to reflect
situated like a house on the hill of proverbial few, the due society of arms has become denial
of one simple little fact, that given the taste of heed for out the hour of sincerity
is a legend onto itself for a regard in notion to claim, the nation of deeds and leads
to protect the needs of another, and by due cause see to their mercies as individuality
is closer to godliness than a sweet ordeal of same and sight unseen will ever be
sordid, it seems, the tact of a using will, to confirm the majesty of peace in our midst
time with a shoe of annotation for the creation of wests and then how in mother earth
a navel of enterprise ever be, any more than friend seeking aid of a hell of such, to list
the panic of domains, the pride of duress, the passion of delirium, and the poise of dirt...
token of our appreciation
tall and faultless, the short of it come
to those that can see, the new side of silence
prayers and fairs of notion, for you and me
the tale of success to equate, with a knowing glance
we conceive a herald for each, the poignancy of patience, accord and anarchy
so to a lisping lip of gestures in void or choice, we seek the chin of chance...
sour?
if to all in the regality of succor thus came, to excellency
if a habit of just, or more, the selection of wisdom for dour
these acts of vehemence and the alienation of decency from a pall, of increduality
setting with the times, we know a thing obvious
the terror of announced greatness and the patience it took
to compare the salt of understanding with a hair of a chance, is us
the tact of duty to a cloud of method we fell to earth with, the knowledge of pain forsook
where has a passing joy begun, or in its vernacular of vestige and the honor to collect
a heart of somber kind, well to do with a coping smile and the penchance of live all the while
we have selected more from the suppose and hold of credence that has come, for a soul to reflect
situated like a house on the hill of proverbial few, the due society of arms has become denial
of one simple little fact, that given the taste of heed for out the hour of sincerity
is a legend onto itself for a regard in notion to claim, the nation of deeds and leads
to protect the needs of another, and by due cause see to their mercies as individuality
is closer to godliness than a sweet ordeal of same and sight unseen will ever be
sordid, it seems, the tact of a using will, to confirm the majesty of peace in our midst
time with a shoe of annotation for the creation of wests and then how in mother earth
a navel of enterprise ever be, any more than friend seeking aid of a hell of such, to list
the panic of domains, the pride of duress, the passion of delirium, and the poise of dirt...
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For Wins, Not Four Winds, That Knew Me For A Wink
For Wins, Not Four Winds, That Knew Me For A Wink
