Music:
Member Since: 4/21/2008
Band Website: http://www.allpoetry.com/leannebridgewater
Band Members: SOME POETRY
Cove Limer
Mac’a’cell-fy
Passion lay by
Lay the hand down on the eart’ins of mixed varied buttons
… because
buttons wouldn’t melt
not even the choc’aloteir
could even fuzz up the loveless
and less love would be injury
and would involve the sew and so
to solve it
called it injured
then in comes the jury
the cell:
red
blood cell
could your buttons melt if you couldn’t resin
… can you ever imagine the tells of a macabre
and how it breeds a b’read
could you read red alert and insert the hand
to occupy and coup the fine crests of love liquid
within your hands as of tiny cups
and cuplets, couplets, couple
mac-a-cellfy rode by and left you
with the pleasure of something never leavingmelted hearts are the art of chocolart
call it colour in this world as we would and could
the colour red and the fresh of wood
carve in care
and clothe the bare You're Already Booked In
A morgue made for shelter and shade when the sun came
The name of your kill was the light you enthralled
Beckon'madam
Say what you want
I am what I amA bitchend positioned lens strengthens this pledge
Honesty rifles and blitz configures a gander surrender((This gender, moral disorder, I am the rack where you hang this
present))[For the rent of open arms]The earth, wind, fire atmosphere spheres the clear moon where the sky balloons it's exhaustion of gas as you passedEntry is only allowed if you lanuch a coat over your head
pull the doors behind you shut and lust in a case where the sun bought the dark and when it's dark all are met to seduce, forget, forge and pre-launch it's cherokee of church beingBeing this
I before the Ease of eyes
I am indigo iris
this choice of religious two leg walking deathIrrelevant tainted faints fault and I volt
my passion, thought to your palette of dark shadingsI'll predict that you die on any day in May
Influences: Fat with a 'th'... of eatrical. Everyday sounds that we just never take enough nime to hallucinai the ears with, oh and the eyes, only sometimes does we. Anything phreaky and pucca enough to get your lips sucker in the such...
Sounds Like: Trippy dazed and confused muse that trips over trash and adds the wrong beats in with mong-led mangled words that walk the rhythm like unbalanced mannequins. Expect to hear stuttering of speech, clashy backgrounds, lyrical bears dancing around. A Bloody Being
a march of blood
a war of 'whole'
a haul of toll road where they roll
toil and trouble
the oil on the floor
the war you have with yourself
the necessary evil in youeach and every seed may grow edition
each and every human with ambition
very earned in which the rain may yearn some self before it became: tall in an after fall of this fool
Record Label: RE:"I said cut the ’cord"
Type of Label: Major
