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(Two Little Princes) or “Vaccine in The Early Years”

A fortune for the pill And standing by a warehouse, was a promise of self esteem Across the broken planet, in pride to his own Princess We the sum of youth, broke into the Russian vine A sonic win for the good of hay vlad had sixty thousand days To suffer the pain of excess fortune And foreboding by the fire body, it was who accosted a lens To Ukraine with opportunity An income for every soldier Step down and foreward Virtually the appeasement of a frozen plan There was novichek and moons Ukraine the Soldier Himself That who rained peace to God It was hitler who self-recused As a parable for the United States Next to brethren And cars alight for a promise That Belarus would hold his never And vlad stood down By quarter to nine For the Son of God, Who stopped the war

Be mine, in Italy And I will sign your every waiver For the principle of Canadian dreams And Independence for the wait It was best and available In Communion we won So that all who had many Rebuilt the forest And the train And a deliverance of babies Notwithstanding death Many suffered for days But the Glory of God Saw men weeping And stood down to Ukraine And Belarus the prophet Made off with Incheon While the Chinese bled for Christ At once and at noon And became Christian And no-one knows But the sun

May it rain on every driveway To find out what went on In the Irish way of a landslide So that victory was not only, For the poor, but for the just And the ocean’s power of Baptism at once Sent the Paraclete to all and satan died, For Earth’s regret And tears depend on Sunday

See you there, By the shipyard And Christening the sun Who burned a place of iron love And men got on with their day

We spoke out at Club Montreal For the prison of consumption While doves circled in our early time For Baptism to win a war

For the Good of The Son of God For Brandenburg and breathing flames While holly decked our own summons And beheaded vlad by six

To early dinner And so recused I ate a poem and prayed aloud Bless us Lord, We have sinned, But the edged land And the digress of Bread We prevail in the Holy Land And won the battle, For Mexique,

Christendom of days

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