WINE AND GATES
Boding's And Burden's Exact Lord's Silence
Lent the key
The master of ceremony's saved a look
For the imagination of a child, somewhere we be
The sort's of cope and candy, hope and hirsute
Combing his hair, and being watched by a follower
A chatting hour to climb and deserve the notion we due
With a role of austere authority, the wages of silence came to heir
And seek a relationship with observation, a harrowing we can accrue?
The master stared with aplomb
Aren't we the fine fiddle, a charity in a clashing gift
Of seriousness to others, and the mention of where we consider home
When a truth comes knocking, for its part in the spirit to live...
Hereafter, the follower came forward
And asked the boy and the master, "When does a respect come out to play?"
"Letting a breath edge wise, and taking a step toward"
"I see the key turn into the man in the moon, not green cheese and, hey!"
Threading through the crowd that had gathered for the ceremony
A young man and his wife say hello, to a which and its worth
"Would you like a tomorrow on your kisses, or a shrewd novelty of what was the all of a history"
"To come with a needy stare of it's own, the tale we offer, is an icy won, of powers and exhort"
"See the times grow long, and ample for a sharing eye"
"Lend us a requited home, and its marvel of nary come well, the duty of avarices"
"Which always turn out to be, a frightened mercy in soon, mores and less with wry"
Seeing the fairer in his ways, the master looks and says, "Penny sound and peace about, spices"
Last note, of an embarrassed bird in the eaves of a nearby building
Worth one more stead, and the impossible journey of presumption if not acts of the proud?
Looking for a missing heathen, if we ever see the lore of privilege have a call, willing...
Is this lesson of courtesy of the youth, or in the passion of the old, to question how?
The master of ceremony's saved a look
For the imagination of a child, somewhere we be
The sort's of cope and candy, hope and hirsute
Combing his hair, and being watched by a follower
A chatting hour to climb and deserve the notion we due
With a role of austere authority, the wages of silence came to heir
And seek a relationship with observation, a harrowing we can accrue?
The master stared with aplomb
Aren't we the fine fiddle, a charity in a clashing gift
Of seriousness to others, and the mention of where we consider home
When a truth comes knocking, for its part in the spirit to live...
Hereafter, the follower came forward
And asked the boy and the master, "When does a respect come out to play?"
"Letting a breath edge wise, and taking a step toward"
"I see the key turn into the man in the moon, not green cheese and, hey!"
Threading through the crowd that had gathered for the ceremony
A young man and his wife say hello, to a which and its worth
"Would you like a tomorrow on your kisses, or a shrewd novelty of what was the all of a history"
"To come with a needy stare of it's own, the tale we offer, is an icy won, of powers and exhort"
"See the times grow long, and ample for a sharing eye"
"Lend us a requited home, and its marvel of nary come well, the duty of avarices"
"Which always turn out to be, a frightened mercy in soon, mores and less with wry"
Seeing the fairer in his ways, the master looks and says, "Penny sound and peace about, spices"
Last note, of an embarrassed bird in the eaves of a nearby building
Worth one more stead, and the impossible journey of presumption if not acts of the proud?
Looking for a missing heathen, if we ever see the lore of privilege have a call, willing...
Is this lesson of courtesy of the youth, or in the passion of the old, to question how?
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Boding`s And Burden`s Exact Lord`s Silence
Boding`s And Burden`s Exact Lord`s Silence
