The Part^Trudge Family

Law in Force meant that War was bombs thrown to Crowds my ways of smoke,
the gagging Human Beings were smeared to The Grounds for crowds did sounds,
with The Music in my ears walking Watched the audience Shroud,
quick the Police became the spear firing shelled and road blocks Peered,
for From the done to the Touching suns Moons would bring the jeans to Punned by Tears.

Width the decades in between sew the Many to this Themed,
officers that don't pull grenades rather set the pen to grades,
curved the Throw to sentence played,
riddle Awes prose to penciled Walls at know difference still Watch,
for those gasmasks are on the docks!!

Graffiti hunts that spread to Speak,
water Fountains spreading leaked,
bus James Blunt to Tour World,
for the slam it's butters curled.

Like mile gone rancid with each a Post nailing Context with knowing slate,
than the back Too basic Flights an excused by paving bytes,
on computer Mind it's slight ranging Founders bye the Rites,
taste this snapshot of a book from the Hugs that James Blunts cooked,
out the Pride I'm a City born,
raised with nothing of butt scorn!!

Razors edge with Wine House known a Flash Back to the bathroom Tone,
singing echo heard the sleeve than in England died of Mystery,
funny Tribe that makes to Vibes than the Classic comes up Cried,
Wolfe the book to Wells the took Won my system it's a Rook,
know Pawn of paper King Penned crump just like Waisters had a Trump!!

Now that Islands bury sell Gaining decade by the rub,
showing starch that looks like Hard just to shove the bass to Tar,
oil soap with After Stage stroking ego with the Dazed,
good to picture flushed the cheek as the suite is all bare sheep,
google James Blunt he's a Stag that does Act like Shockers grad.,
how Ever grates the shifting sleep Once a Wake than Ashes laced all threw the Profiled Cased,
shelves that hold those to guitars Made Awares of ready smiled,
dab that drip for Drops gave Miles not the measure of Inched in Stile!!

Pasture gates that have through Pads groovy Check it out for grabs,
paper clippings print That Class hug the Faction just like Cabs,
a taxi show to slip a Put growing bigger bye the crate,
draw the Colors on the doll get the Crayon it's James Blunts paul,
in the year of coming Up ask the dirt is mud on truck,
in the Cycle of the Mix know it's concrete and it's fritz,
bubbles that don't kill to drink rather make the Swallow laugh,
for the fizzy just is Flat 'cause James Blunt can't prove his sad.

Process 'Center' with an 'X' than in the 'Y' it's awfully said,
James Blunts life is present Flown to the mattress of my comb,
brushing Mural looks to Rag for the rack a Mag. pies Site,
yet the hour bye minutes shout Tea bagging with The Boss in Stead for RIGHT!!

Tom Crews