2010-08-21 - harvest time
what kind of fool would I be what kind of tool can't you see if I don't rule what's left of me then I can't lead unless I say to my vice no delay paradise can never be sever me from all my greed so plant the seed there is no need there's no mephistopheles no disease in the breeze can stunt this growth it's a chariot I ride horses flaming side by side on an ever rising tide to swear the oath as the heart pumps out the blood we will overcome with love all ye hateful and ungrateful fall and pray let divide the wrong from right separate the dark from light burning brightly in the night come the day tree beside the river's edge fruitful bearing limbs and hedge branching upward in this pledge generations stations ledge lay it up for all to see roots submerging ceaselessly rest your weary head on me never more to fear smell. see. taste. and hear. harvest time draws near.
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