Covered in ivory clouds that the wind steals,
Selling to drought at a criminal price...
It seems to me
That the best presents are not under the Christmas...
A petal danced upon the wind,
Timely floating from our sin...
The Orchestra
The many instruments, each one playing their own...
I see people walking
down the street...
It was hell from heaven:
She touched that skin with so much care...
Hypocrite
(for the so-called Politicians...
Children are crying
parents anxiously searching...
I hear a story of a little girl, starving and in...
I hear a story of a race where there is no...
On the way to my morning class
Near the oak tree I was passing...
He sits on his rocking chair
tallying accounts...
Ocean roads wind and twist
and promise you a taste of...