Give me the lowest place: not that I dare
Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died
That I might live and share
Thy glory by Thy side.
Give me the lowest place: or if for me
That lowest place too high, make one more low
Where I may sit and see
My God and love Thee so.
so I drank half the bottle
to tell her how I felt
but wasn't home that morning;
she took me straight to bed.
though all I am is a drunkard -
my best to gasp and writhe.
and the only landslide I want to cause:
convulsions between her thighs.
All cross eyed, in dead men's skies.
and I could sleep beneath dancers.
but as for now I'll play my fill
But she'll struggle to move me after.
Until then she does try and try
to make me gasp and writhe.
But she can feel what I cannot -
Breathing "I love you"s between her sighs.
there is no such thing as unconditional love, only Stockholm Syndrome.
there was once a reindeer rudolph was is name
not like all the others he was not the same
he was very special he pulled a christmas sleigh
taking lots of presents to deliver christmas day
he had a big red nose and it used to glow
when ever he was there everyone would know
he loved all the children and he loved them so
the chlidren they would smile at his nose a glow
rudolph he was special they all new his name
without him there at christmas it wouldnt be the same
We walked amongst the ruins famed in story
And saw the boundless waters stretch in glory
And heave in power.
O Ocean vast! We heard thy song with wonder,
Whilst waves marked time.
"Appear, O Truth!" thou sang'st with tone of thunder,
"And shine sublime!
"The world's enslaved and hunted down by beagles,
To despots sold.
Souls of deep thinkers, soar like mighty eagles!
The Right uphold.
"Be born! arise! o'er the earth and wild waves bounding,
Peoples and suns!
Let darkness vanish; tocsins be resounding,
And flash, ye guns!
"And you who love no pomps of fog or glamour,
Who fear no shocks,
Brave foam and lightning, hurricane and clamour,--
Exiles: the rocks!"
In my shattered garden
I lie and cry.
I could scrub floors
And get a sense
Of something done
I get up
And stumble on
And get slapped back.
I count my blessings
It is no use.
Back and forth
Carrying a deep despair
Like a fretful child.
There there, despair,