I wouldn't let you fall asleep where you died
We didn't look so indiscreetly disguised
A green balloon has heavily passed us by
A melted desk, mahogany, switches sides
The bottom of a glass is me
Your midnight smile is breakfastly
The hope is crumbs
Retaining water tumbles forth
And froths against the wall
You walk it like a dog
Hope is no kiln upon the fray, but it tries
My karmic tantrum folds like clay, big surprise
Our prime ordeal bellows we're safe, [but/though] it lies
Four legs through distance waltzed away, in demise
A poet caught between the teeth
Some gentle loss will set him free
The music halts
The parish spread their wings
And coughed up pain against the wall
You walked into the fog
Eventually
The past surmises only pretend holdings
The fast alignment's going
I wouldn't let you fall asleep where you died
The fellow's drunken stupor weeps for its time
The fools don't change because we cheat
Pesticide will work it's magic into weave's best design
credits
from The Cultry,
released October 10, 2002
J.M.France-Vocals, Guitars
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