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| CHARIOT SKEWED _______________________________________ Soft winds blow the ground-scored leaves Burning chills deliver fire into the limbs Across the town an Englishman flees He had to failed to recite his hymns In the bakery six bakers bake a golden-glazed pie The war of the valleys involved removal of eyes. Deep in the pillager's pocket finds a two-faced token, Destiny Revives Itself, Never Broken Life finds its crevices in wells and soil Those two-timing villains and misfits bring you to a boil Forlorn lies us in our haze Strike the Match Pandemonium. ...Hope and Dreams Ablaze In your conflagration, you never knew That your damnation was your chariot skewed So ringers and beggars, all you cretons, Find your face, and so... may you yours too. |
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