Loft to a healing ray
Of sunshine, where the pace is to reason
Through the hour, and hope in a delicate same
Worth once forward, and thunder in a look for season

Temples that run
As shrewd as a habit in the couth, to question a friend
Hiss, **** and vinegar, the call of can't for cunning
Olden times and the frank display of a power, come in the end

Temples that fight
With a rolling heat, so secure in its justice
The tale of future homage, the trick in your nostril's, tight
By right's of callous treacle, the irony of succor to rise

Temples that thieve
So sweet a spice of torment and the torture of guidance
Away from the purile, to make an obvious statement of grief
Waiting on the disease, we trod into a haven't, that takes lands

Temples that die
With the been and better lip, of causes we favored in the amend
Of rigors and steely eyes, the climate of when a world has a laugh, all of a right
Have the sign of decision in a youth's care, where we are a heart to lend?

Light's that healed the privilege of silence
Light's that coped with a curious shadow, when might saved ire
Light's that seemed the better of changes of means, into art though appends
Light's that warred in your name, for a sickened stare at unwholesomeness's fires

Light's that spanked your baby with love
Sound bared and a barrier, to know the coming tried and true
Promise of senses alive, with the courtesy of impressions and covenants
And an olive given a real try, at what was homes need for a freer you