Old Refine Town
Happy things and stunning kings
Old Refine Town
Happy things and stunning kings
Birds with ribbons blessed sings
Bless what town whose name it rings
Happy thoughts o'er happy things.
Wishful thinking hopeful thinking
Are they thinking, hoping dreaming
Who is wishing, waiting, seeing
Mourn your town it is so gleaming.
Caught up in your blessedness
Your happiness who thinks it less
He thinks, who dreams this glee but less
He thinks, he will show no but best.
A wicken man, a wicken plan
walketh in thy blessed land
you dirty man, your dirty plan
plotting scheming on our sand.
Ribboned birds they sing no words
Mute they see what of occurs
Dirty our blessed with your words
You kill our glee thou slay our birds.
Calamity you walk our street
You walk so far thou blistered feet
Blessed begs you take a seat
Blessed needs you do retreat.
Little deaths and deathly beds
Unhealthy whites and running reds
Lack those of thy sugared heads
Men with swords and swords with heads.
Your birds your bless thee do not see
Wishing dreaming you lose thee
He think your kings unhappily
Bless, it gone, it cannot see.
I haven't written anything in a while :|