WINE AND GATES
Does Wonder Live For Love, Or Vice Versa?
Timely
If not down right given
To be the ought if a flash in the pan, anarchy
Is a fashion onto itself, worth more than a standard living
Money, and the still of the night
We breathe, we dream, we sleep worthier might
But to make love ... as with all thing's right
The more we try, the less we keep a place for sight
Look at the heathen smile I offer
In the indecision that made us, never in view
Too obscure to liberate the mention, of a guard and guarantee of lover's
The waiting and the shared lore we approve, is a conscience to rue
Notice the overabundance of question's and here to say, limit's
Of welfare for the risen ide's of bother
Known twain for one hour, which we love to pieces
Suppose the frankness of our gesture, came with the smile of needful ordeal, to rather...
I see a peckish one, to help the since for better clarity
In the have, of curiosity found to be a ruley vice, the lips of destiny show a charity
Favored by one, the them with a capable shed terror, to give the wall's of disparity
To know a life in the mere, the soundness of fear to come, for a new weary, but willing need
Does this knuckle of fortune taste like a flower?
Can a pace of passionate gaiety save the day from a forward youthfulness?
Has a language of romance been, the counting and the sordid wishes we delve into for power?
Could a hand in furious repose, know the better of itself, for a distant offer's bless?
Craving the height of guidance
Where we are the utmost, of sunrises measure to simplify the tact of a seemly ghost
Of remnancy as we fore, the chance of pious kinds and finds of reality again
To be the fruit of wiser fates, that know you for a harmony in the fold, to host
Beckon, beckon, the truth in a whole guise
Life is a rational first, to the sincerity of other's
Weal to abstain, the marvel of insatiate succor, for the breed of idea's
To succeed in the eye's of portrayal, the lock of many to see, the reach of new love, to wonder
If not down right given
To be the ought if a flash in the pan, anarchy
Is a fashion onto itself, worth more than a standard living
Money, and the still of the night
We breathe, we dream, we sleep worthier might
But to make love ... as with all thing's right
The more we try, the less we keep a place for sight
Look at the heathen smile I offer
In the indecision that made us, never in view
Too obscure to liberate the mention, of a guard and guarantee of lover's
The waiting and the shared lore we approve, is a conscience to rue
Notice the overabundance of question's and here to say, limit's
Of welfare for the risen ide's of bother
Known twain for one hour, which we love to pieces
Suppose the frankness of our gesture, came with the smile of needful ordeal, to rather...
I see a peckish one, to help the since for better clarity
In the have, of curiosity found to be a ruley vice, the lips of destiny show a charity
Favored by one, the them with a capable shed terror, to give the wall's of disparity
To know a life in the mere, the soundness of fear to come, for a new weary, but willing need
Does this knuckle of fortune taste like a flower?
Can a pace of passionate gaiety save the day from a forward youthfulness?
Has a language of romance been, the counting and the sordid wishes we delve into for power?
Could a hand in furious repose, know the better of itself, for a distant offer's bless?
Craving the height of guidance
Where we are the utmost, of sunrises measure to simplify the tact of a seemly ghost
Of remnancy as we fore, the chance of pious kinds and finds of reality again
To be the fruit of wiser fates, that know you for a harmony in the fold, to host
Beckon, beckon, the truth in a whole guise
Life is a rational first, to the sincerity of other's
Weal to abstain, the marvel of insatiate succor, for the breed of idea's
To succeed in the eye's of portrayal, the lock of many to see, the reach of new love, to wonder
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Does Wonder Live For Love, Or Vice Versa?
Does Wonder Live For Love, Or Vice Versa?