Tuesday, 27 March 2018

Julian Plenty of...

Show me the dirt pile and will pray that the soul can take three stowaways
Vanish with no guile, and will not pay 
But the soul can wait

But if it's still pretty, what with all these leaves? We'll be fine, oh
And supervise 

... But here comes the fall 
So much for make-believe, not sold
So much of dreams, deceit, not prepared to know 

For always and ever will never let go 
Always concealed, safe and inside
Alive

In a passion it broke, always pulling the black from the gray
But the soul can wait
I felt you so much today