Phoenix envy - music page 5
I need a sol, a soul unlike any other God. A breeze designating itself God. Telling me a pathway where to go. A bristle of rose peddles flourish in the wind. Reminiscence of seasons gone by. Against the cherry blossoms signaling of the dead. Wondering if my sol got what to hold, laaaaaaaaaa. Fire by my side! Words of plead coincided in a most dawery beside the cherry blossoms. Beyond the endless bordering hence. My sol is a soul concreting for infinity. Migrate on my name, hope is a fire within me. Whew, aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Far beyond the seasons, the Haven horizon
Far beyond the seasons to rise: where my hearth resides
Concreting something is inside me: To the stars, the atoms accompanying there's a me.
To the rising of a dawn, raising there's a burning: something further than on a pasture than me.
To the rising dawn, the herald settling tense upon a pasture, far beyond the seasons to rise: The depth of somewhere beyond the paradigm parallel limmering postulations and stipulations, to be sewed upon something yet to be foretold.
Postulation of the hearth climbing very far, burning a kilde of creation on the inside: Conceptualizing a flare is upon my inner flame, manipulating it into a dream for the spirits of a name. The fire bridles me of Jade, hence is forth a ply reconcision affidavit conjecturing a carrying rhythm.
Lift me to the sights that are to be seen, a dream paring in diamonds: reminiscing of a myth designating to be seasons, alliterating to be tense
And gone away
My heart has sat before
The till between the two iterations perceptions visionary
Wondering if my sol has what to hold Wwwweewww
For the cometh is nigh, harmous something is deliberating inside.
Personifying over me is a stream, a hearth: Decisive retelling nouveau romen.
Raising a tridant of autobiographies: The wind walks upon concretion had been created, the dreams of humans demands a name and the will is a mirror prosing paradox rising concretion congregating by the creation of breeze.
There is my soul striving: Wondering whether it had something to hold.
Reaching out there is my sol, concreting a current for my faith can hold.
Common cometh uh territorial, a sacred will mirroring a blare circumference upon the pivotalation of a passageway or pathway into the resemblance of tense.
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