WINE AND GATES
Senses All In A Row, Looking Amidst Knowing...?
Hind, salt and the future with youth
So many paces of persistence, patience in a drawing eye...
Come the somber, are we a dream to defend, or is offense our couth?
A word only a mother could love, and this, is no lie...
Presence of mind, to deserve a further bared concensus of life
To remember the token of decision in the save of a face
Where to fore, the common enough horn of yearning, to show strife
Love is a sheltered eye, we all know falls down when passion says "space"
Corners and elan of a venturing room
Done to wishes, deemed the only way to deed
Sincerity moves and mendacity responds, like friends in a heart stilled to groom
Worth your wandering nigh, to seem a little more than else, the fate of she'd
Require with me, the stomach of suggestion, to know a lividity with it's eye's open
Focus with your compassion, the stir of unity without, the role of sameness toward
Actual to the thumb you offer, the many thanks I adore, is a word to close and lock, often
Like an angel, we know the risen mind for the trial of when we were but best foot forward
How is it not?, comes a soothing voice
Baby wants a finished terror, to sing like a little bird, heat
Is my secret, to keep a knowing glance at when we are, the better choice
Fascination seems to owe us a share in the politeness we seem to be, as if a world was meet
Life in a rolling tongue, to senses served by the languor of an unusual find
Sigh's and schism to live in the open, where only the happy can truly dwell...
Since we are the poise of chastity in health, will we be a giant or a little kind?
Show us your thumb, babe of mine, was this eye of your's, for everyone or ancient bell's?
What did baby make?
That word was judgment, or at least the truer form of mind over matter's, so fine
But belet to winds of chance, with a single clue, like the psyche of decency does, sake
Water makes futures, and heat makes the past, come forward for the heart of time...
So many paces of persistence, patience in a drawing eye...
Come the somber, are we a dream to defend, or is offense our couth?
A word only a mother could love, and this, is no lie...
Presence of mind, to deserve a further bared concensus of life
To remember the token of decision in the save of a face
Where to fore, the common enough horn of yearning, to show strife
Love is a sheltered eye, we all know falls down when passion says "space"
Corners and elan of a venturing room
Done to wishes, deemed the only way to deed
Sincerity moves and mendacity responds, like friends in a heart stilled to groom
Worth your wandering nigh, to seem a little more than else, the fate of she'd
Require with me, the stomach of suggestion, to know a lividity with it's eye's open
Focus with your compassion, the stir of unity without, the role of sameness toward
Actual to the thumb you offer, the many thanks I adore, is a word to close and lock, often
Like an angel, we know the risen mind for the trial of when we were but best foot forward
How is it not?, comes a soothing voice
Baby wants a finished terror, to sing like a little bird, heat
Is my secret, to keep a knowing glance at when we are, the better choice
Fascination seems to owe us a share in the politeness we seem to be, as if a world was meet
Life in a rolling tongue, to senses served by the languor of an unusual find
Sigh's and schism to live in the open, where only the happy can truly dwell...
Since we are the poise of chastity in health, will we be a giant or a little kind?
Show us your thumb, babe of mine, was this eye of your's, for everyone or ancient bell's?
What did baby make?
That word was judgment, or at least the truer form of mind over matter's, so fine
But belet to winds of chance, with a single clue, like the psyche of decency does, sake
Water makes futures, and heat makes the past, come forward for the heart of time...
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Senses All In A Row, Looking Amidst Knowing...?
Senses All In A Row, Looking Amidst Knowing...?
