Accuse me of this, trusting what did I gest?
|
To think or confess, silence seems to be best
|
Speaking of words, accepting it would be worse
|
And solace comes first, it forfeits here in retrieving
|
|
Every last reason for wanting of evidence
|
With all things beside us that line up as residence
|
Everything left be a waste of time
|
|
Perfect as this, to only realize a guess
|
Conflicts can rest, what takes precedence next?
|
Keeping with words, how can I be assured?
|
Solace comes first, it forfeits here in retrieving
|
|
Every last reason for wanting of evidence
|
With all things beside us that line up as residence
|
Everything left be a waste of time
|
|
-----------------
|
Out Of Order
|
| Umphrey's McGee |
