must’ve been forces, that took me on them wild courses who knows how many poses, that I’ve been in but them the main closest, hark! it gives meaning Mine i cannot really post this, AH feel the signs i worried bout rain and i worried bout lighting but i watched them off, to the light of the morning marking the slope, slung low in the highlands where the days have no numbers if it’s harmed, its harmed me, it’ll harm, i let it in oh the old modus: out to be leading live said, comes the old ponens, demit to strive a word about Gnosis: it aint gonna buy the groceries or middle-out locusts, or weigh to find i hurry bout shame, and i worry bout a worn path and i wander off, just to come back home turning to waltz, hold high in the lowlands ‘cause the days have no numbers’ it harms me, it harms me, it harms like a lamb so i can depose this, partial to the bleeding vines spose you can’t hold sh*t. how high I’ve been what a river don’t know is: to climb out and heed a line to slow among roses, or stay behind I’ve been to that grove where no matter the source is and walked it off: how long i’d last sore-ring to cope, whole band on the canyon ‘when the days have no numbers’ well it harms it harms me it harms, ill let it in