Other Exercises
Messes Of Men 
Hard
by MewithoutYou
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
I do not exist, but faithfully insist
in our separate ships
and each caravelle
Tiring and trying there's unnecessary dying
like the crab in its proper seasons sheds its shell
Such from our friends
like a scratch a lens,
everything look wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper blew away before we'd the bay,
so half-blind we these songs on sheets of salty wood
Caught me making eyes at the other boatman's wives,
and me laughing louder at the jokes told by their daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a hand to waters
The propeller's spinning held with the waves
as there's I've made no rowing could outrun
The cloth blowing on the to say I've got no past
but I'm the librarian and secretary's son
with tarnish on my brass and mildew on my glass,
I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone like me
but a few leagues off the shore, I bit a flashing lure
and I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be!
I still taste its kiss, that dull hook in my lip
is a memory as useless as a rod without a reel
To an ever-dropped, seasick yet docked
Captain napping his first at the wheel,
floating forgetfully along, no need to be strong
We our and when we pray we keep it short
I a thimble full of fire and I'm not coming back
Oh, my God!
I do not exist we insist
while watching the heavy ship of everything we knew
If ever you come near I'll hold up a mirror
Lord, I could never show you as as You
in our separate ships
and each caravelle
Tiring and trying there's unnecessary dying
like the crab in its proper seasons sheds its shell
Such from our friends
like a scratch a lens,
everything look wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper blew away before we'd the bay,
so half-blind we these songs on sheets of salty wood
Caught me making eyes at the other boatman's wives,
and me laughing louder at the jokes told by their daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a hand to waters
The propeller's spinning held with the waves
as there's I've made no rowing could outrun
The cloth blowing on the to say I've got no past
but I'm the librarian and secretary's son
with tarnish on my brass and mildew on my glass,
I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone like me
but a few leagues off the shore, I bit a flashing lure
and I assure you, it was not what I expected it to be!
I still taste its kiss, that dull hook in my lip
is a memory as useless as a rod without a reel
To an ever-dropped, seasick yet docked
Captain napping his first at the wheel,
floating forgetfully along, no need to be strong
We our and when we pray we keep it short
I a thimble full of fire and I'm not coming back
Oh, my God!
I do not exist we insist
while watching the heavy ship of everything we knew
If ever you come near I'll hold up a mirror
Lord, I could never show you as as You
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