06-08-2013, 08:23 AM
Edit 1
Our fireside seat an old melting sofa,
dragged back from the raising heat,
spuds bake at the red embers edge,
wood stocks fed from creosote fence,
chasing smoke round fiery eyes,
streaking lines down amber faces.
Roman candles, ready for flight
burst the night in hand held arcs,
dark shadows circle the flames, spitting
tracers that claim the backs of runners,
coats flapping in the battle field air,
blackened we fall to our molten lair.
Original
Our fireside seat a melting sofa,
dragged back from the raising heat,
spuds bake at the red embers edge,
wood stocks fed from creosote fence,
wind change chases smoke into eyes,
streaking lines down amber faces.
Roman candles, ready for flight
burst the night in hand held arcs,
dark shadows circle the flames, spitting
tracers that claim the backs of runners,
coats flapping in the battle field air,
blackened we fall to our molten lair.
Our fireside seat an old melting sofa,
dragged back from the raising heat,
spuds bake at the red embers edge,
wood stocks fed from creosote fence,
chasing smoke round fiery eyes,
streaking lines down amber faces.
Roman candles, ready for flight
burst the night in hand held arcs,
dark shadows circle the flames, spitting
tracers that claim the backs of runners,
coats flapping in the battle field air,
blackened we fall to our molten lair.
Original
Our fireside seat a melting sofa,
dragged back from the raising heat,
spuds bake at the red embers edge,
wood stocks fed from creosote fence,
wind change chases smoke into eyes,
streaking lines down amber faces.
Roman candles, ready for flight
burst the night in hand held arcs,
dark shadows circle the flames, spitting
tracers that claim the backs of runners,
coats flapping in the battle field air,
blackened we fall to our molten lair.
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out