The Sophist

2014-04-09 12:00 am

First Epoch

Remaining austere,
Regaining sophistication,
Antonio tore us,
Your all-known creation,
Teaching the Sophist the true contemplation.

Second Epoch

Antonio Torres in poor destitution,
For the music they play is pure prostitution,
Well-tempered lyres swelling vast elocution,
Conception of torrents of great contribution.

Gord

2014-04-09 12:00 am

A moonlit night,
The perfect time,
To play my guitar,
While my mirror shines.
Wholesomely,
I build my melody,
I win my fight.
A shooting star!
I play for her heart,
Still I find no departure,
I still long for my woman.
To die beside her.

Gord

2014-04-09 12:00 am

No head of lettuce larger,
Plus no trade embargo.
No policia to stop us, bro.