Search results for 'as if by scorn' Page #20

You'll rabble how long with your scorn? How long will you chase flies from dawn

Living crazed by illusion, look at this God's inclusion
He listens

"Self-righteous scorn", oh, what a scene!
But a diamond shines through the muck and mire
I won't be drowned in their murky choir!

Misery loves company, they say

And transcend economics to where real treasures abound
Music pre-sonics and sound
Come on creeps, freaks, the meek
The other cheek turned in the face of scorn

vain

This road is dark without an end in sight
It's paved with stones of scorn and spite

Lost a trust, and our bearings too
The things we do, are all

A whole life on the spring
In between ends of worlds
Plays of fear by the weak
For a bloodied crown, curved

Taken away from a realm torn
A lone

dismissed, they stood
Treating me like less than dirt, worth less than their scorn
Pushing me to the brink, as if I was never born

Friends came over, a rare

of M
Middle of the Golden State, born in Oakland Californ
Moved out when young to where Martin Luther passed from scorn
Mom and Dad were torn as college

It's dark outside
You said meet me at the bar
Been here all night
And I haven't seen your car
And they told me you were no good
But i stood by all

a farmer’s hand sowin’ crops that never grew before
Just count the seconds past the lightening
Don’t find the thunder frightening
If you do they’ll have you

to stow away the sodden, fervor you have sent
Unbeknownst to a suture, presented by your hand
All the while for stumbling out, and looking again
Oh no

I

Our light is gone, trauma in its brightest form
I was warned, but by then I was worn
Facing scorn, fabric of reality torn
Sound the horn to drown any

to the widows
Charity to the orphans 
Hand out rations to the traveller
If they couldn't help themselves 
Mr. Bilal was on the scene
Mr. Bilal was doing deeds

to the widows
Charity to the orphans 
Hand out rations to the traveller
If they couldn't help themselves 
Mr. Bilal was on the scene
Mr. Bilal was doing deeds

walks it

Its a way of spears and clubs
That aiming for your back
No one dares to leave the pride
If only by command
Do not heed the foolish warnings:

to the widows
Charity to the orphans 
Hand out rations to the traveller
If they couldn't help themselves 
Mr. Bilal was on the scene
Mr. Bilal was doing deeds

to the widows
Charity to the orphans 
Hand out rations to the traveller
If they couldn't help themselves 
Mr. Bilal was on the scene
Mr. Bilal was doing deeds

and scorn
If only the desire for more was like an addicting drug
I wish I deserved all your true love
But I'm only worth a few more scratches and moans
Pain

to the widows
Charity to the orphans 
Hand out rations to the traveller
If they couldn't help themselves 
Mr. Bilal was on the scene
Mr. Bilal was doing deeds

and torn
By guilt and scorn
The face you wear
Has washed off long ago

to the widows
Charity to the orphans 
Hand out rations to the traveller
If they couldn't help themselves 
Mr. Bilal was on the scene
Mr. Bilal was doing deeds

couldn't say could only wait for God
My waters troubled had me sinning more than usually would damn
If you relate I pray this help you and yo local hood
I

away rom deadly potions
Like a rat in little cage
Im just a toy for someones rage
And if i ever die
Throw my body into gloomiest sky

It is already here

A parson who lived near Camborne,
Looked down on all women with scorn,
E'en a boy's fat, white bum, could not make him come,
But an old man's piles

interrupted
By a golden eruption
Not from my volcano
The day glow
The sun slid
Over the horizon
And I was in love quick
And it dawns on me what I need