| By The Choir's Deeds Submitted by distant moon Date: 2002 May 20 Comment on this Work [[2002.05.20.10.48.30758]] |
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We're reeling, leaving heeding oh, your complicated soldiers. Disastrous. Come after us, and you will. These grudges these masquerade sins-sear us and burn us. Deriding fascism from every single orifice and I've walked the roads till I became a self destructive man. I, I'm blowing I'm blowing I'm blowing all these thoughts away now. It's growing I'm growing I've got it so deep inside me. This choir, indeed, This choir's deeds describe me, Listen-ing, to their melody, I'm pained Refrained from your politics and I'm plain, complained, Just drained of self importance. And now I'm, the pastor, I'm preaching all of this and... Your choir, is sleeping, And I'm not about to understand...you... |