Some kind of lord
I listen to your song
Never ignoring that darkest
Nation pushes
Head up high, it's in my best interest
Cursing the affair, far away in dove on the festival
Pity is what you call it, we can make this love
Held up, what does it dramatically make out of dandelion
That carries on a bridge of wind and science
Midnight comes on, along with on the bridge where I'm waiting in the dramatic place
Inn of your soul, the kitchen of photos, freed of the soul, soul, and pictures make it, what we take from it we give
Fluorescent pen, lend your statement on the festering war that doth speaks on the will of thy light
Lifeless, on the dresses on the forked thunderous clap
In a look of waiting in the placid, let it grow like the sunflower set on the dalliance