R.J. Adams


Out Of The Fog

Lost in a drowning fog, timorous
I know there is a sun, come o' beautiful sun
I can no longer afford you a stranger
I know there is a field here where I use to play
Now amidst this fog I fear another step
My cheeks, frigid icebergs
I'm humbled in my begging, tenderly urged
For I crave your warmth
It has become my desires one necessity

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