Their Monument Sticks Like A Fishbone In

What Can The Dove Of Jesus Give You Now But Wisdom, Exile? Stand And Live, The Dove Has Brought An Olive Branch To Eat.

Their Monument Sticks Like A Fishbone In The City's Throat.

Talking About The Past Is Like A Cat's Trying To Explain Climbing Down A Ladder.

It's The Light Of The Oncoming Train.

I Saw The Spiders Marching Through The Air, Swimming From Tree To Tree That Mildewed Day In Latter August When The Hay Came Creaking To The Barn.