| Propensity |
| Those sounds and smells of childhood, all the things that can't be bought - adrift in mem'ries of my youth, I've lost more than I thought. I'm dreaming of that better place, a canticle of One - while moving thru a human crowd, dull ache for times long gone. Surround this ribboned package, I'll give up all that control - a lion turning to the Lamb, bright Paradise in tow. (c) CrimsonSoulFire, 9/2003 |
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