the gospel according to the sun

mystery and the sun keeps shining so i'd love to be poirot for your cold nigh crazy world. can i take you low and warm into my unshifting arms though every eye os every storm and every dry bed empty filled with tears and sleeping only on the right side of the bed.

i'm the firelight to your heart and all your sacred creatures hald therein, i can't help but love ytou like a sandstorm.

2003-08-01 | 3:53 p.m.
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