exact syllable matches

There's hope

- for some

streets and

beg for quarters

No closing

bell, no quarter

I

care for no one

he

cared for so much

Leave the

cell door open

building where

cellphones don't work

I'm a

Death Corps soldier

like

death warmed over

 

echo poem

 

echo poems

I think my

echo's broken

Someone

else spoke those words

 

en torno a

companions and our

into all my

fellow mortals

As

news to my
out against our
their teammates, their
to save his

fellow soldiers

A

fellow sort of

One

fellow spoke up

They are our

fellow-mortals

trade

Fred for your son

gotta

get home for lunch

will ever

get more normal

you

get your clothes from

even

get your hopes up

I'll go

still not

get your order

You're gonna

get your portion

and directed by

Greg Mottola

off a

head so gorgeous

in my

head, for Laura

you

left your home world

 

Let's go forward

 

Let's go home, girls

 

Let's go, Roland

face he

met no quarrel

who speaks in

narrow focus

in the

quest for moksha

going to

me to

read your fortune

you couldn't

read your poem

It's dimensional

retro-closure

I

says, no, no girl

 

Sell your organs

 

sello postal

and to

share those moments

through it towards the

techno-portal

we require

ten more courses

of Radburn,

their foremost work

people having

their homes stolen

progressing on

their own courses

masters of

their own fortunes

members of

their own order

to recognize

their own portraits

by slicing

their throats open

must give

them no quarter

Go marry

then your Soldier

only

there for four months

being

there for your son

I am

therefore hopeful

believe

there's hope for us

There's -

there's no corset

 

There's no more work

 

There's no shortcuts

 

They're your soldiers

 

vento solar

 

yellow cobra

 

yellow cobras

to dried

yellow corn husks

 

yellow locust

 

yellow locusts

 

yellow warblers

are a kind of

yellow-orange

upright

yellow-sorrel

with 1 extra syllable

heavyweight title

against George Foreman

moves

against your own blood

 

Compare post mortem

amore, no

dinero, no sun

 

except for JONAS

you may

expect no quarter

you

invent your own stuff

in

yourself or your work