WINE AND GATES
Looking For A Lion In The Hey, In My September Coat?
Thirst in the knowing hands
Of reproach and the immediate, coins?
And realms of joy, with you for a tale, and me to welcome a wandering
Same to share us, the militancy of class, clash and clever loyalty's
Which?
Sour as a hell of lapse and grace in your eyes, can't be...
Half of your youth spent in bath's, and the other have in heaven's meant
Sight for sordid behavior worth once, upon a time and with heavy creed...
Daddies with a reaching moon, know where the star is...
Space to taste, in a closed but acrid arm pit, is still home pie...
Shared tongue with a morsel of angst, is a looking glass with a wish...
Mommies with a rare flower in her teeth, thinks I lied...
Desperate spinach, and history above the board
Lining up in the sore through and atone
Tongues in their honor, are a very wise word
Religion, due you no means, was my energy so dirty, that I didn't chrome?
Sodium 19, chloral 91
Paper airplanes, rather rude fighting men, and a whole stump of wax
Simple news for a new found friend, missing an eye, honey
Is the facts, and bumble bees with pretty shiny peoples, merit to purple asks...
News in the day of hope and dread, the toward lips
Of a callous mere, to see the world in another's eyes
With shape, couth and content, and a holy shithorse named Hippocrates
Were you that you we're, a drink of when; to tell a world to take a fly...
Of reproach and the immediate, coins?
And realms of joy, with you for a tale, and me to welcome a wandering
Same to share us, the militancy of class, clash and clever loyalty's
Which?
Sour as a hell of lapse and grace in your eyes, can't be...
Half of your youth spent in bath's, and the other have in heaven's meant
Sight for sordid behavior worth once, upon a time and with heavy creed...
Daddies with a reaching moon, know where the star is...
Space to taste, in a closed but acrid arm pit, is still home pie...
Shared tongue with a morsel of angst, is a looking glass with a wish...
Mommies with a rare flower in her teeth, thinks I lied...
Desperate spinach, and history above the board
Lining up in the sore through and atone
Tongues in their honor, are a very wise word
Religion, due you no means, was my energy so dirty, that I didn't chrome?
Sodium 19, chloral 91
Paper airplanes, rather rude fighting men, and a whole stump of wax
Simple news for a new found friend, missing an eye, honey
Is the facts, and bumble bees with pretty shiny peoples, merit to purple asks...
News in the day of hope and dread, the toward lips
Of a callous mere, to see the world in another's eyes
With shape, couth and content, and a holy shithorse named Hippocrates
Were you that you we're, a drink of when; to tell a world to take a fly...
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Looking For A Lion In The Hey, In My September Coat?
Looking For A Lion In The Hey, In My September Coat?
