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Talk of the some's we hid for friendship, has a sinking feeling... |
| Tatters and frowns Time to make a friend, the bowels of charity To venture forth with a lip, for a silence crowns The taste of hunger for a strength unseen, except for disparity Haunt, homage and hours Od the canny, sore in the infamy Stones of wan, to deliver the bite of promise, ours The lovers of dim duty to reason hadding, reality Lucre, do you know for a semblance before the gift of a smile? San's done, dealing the card of suppose and frankness estranged We know the belly of another angry show, ire's of didn't We just, if not enjoy the holding guise of journey's to inanity, none Like the casualty of solace in the world's eyes Isn't more than these, the right to seek another first Ought the dreaming habit we called the panic and the lives Of others in the sharing sought, are ready for our own worst? |