our pearls to pigs
|
dreams are trampled
|
a gaze was so lazy
|
only to never find
|
and emptiness remains
|
as we handed out our souls
|
and gave over in trust
|
our pearls to pigs
|
tendencies of destruction
|
carry out in lonely lull
|
as steady hurt remains
|
now there is no wrath on
|
those who self seek
|
in flesh and blood they move swift
|
in their ideals barring wickedness
|
against simple principal
|
when charged by the presence
|
they tickled their ears with myths
|
some day to be cast aside
|
then instructors of the foolish are now
|
the teachers of the infants
|
like the turning of the tides
|
how constantly
|
we are remembered
|
broken by all that's nothing
|
erased like scribbled words
|
then a phrase goes a thousand times
|
still will it be heard
|
seeds that were stirred by your voice
|
promise is spoken softly
|
still impassioned by it's cause
|
blaze of a thousand suns break skies and burn all
|
the hand drives with action
|
as this earth rolls
|
giving unexplained comfort
|
to burden in souls
|
|
-----------------
|
Rollin' And Tumblin' On Santa's Rotisserie
|
| The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza |
