The winds and seas are fierce and blowing
tides are a changing and black hearts are crowing
"we're almost there" said the psycho rowing
in a boatload of shame. They feel no pain.
Sunrise, sunset is all the same to me. The world
may be in turmoil but I'll tether to a tree.
So blow your gusty winds and sound your croaky horns,
I won't follow in the past of a crown of bleeding thorns.
I don't need a savior, that's an old party favor. I don't like the flavor.
The winds are blowing gusty in a ancient past of dusty...
I say, hooray, take me away... oh I'm already gone
That's gutsy.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
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