The sweet parade the morning brings
The drifters wearing angel wings
The hard distorted hymns they sing
So sad the night is over
Cili dan pišem prolog, barem ideju prologa, stavljam pred sebe nekakvu temu, ali puštam misli da se same formiraju u rečenice. Ja ću ih samo prepisivat iz glave. Za temu sam nekako postiga konsenzus sa samim sobom; rast! Nešto što svi prolazimo iz dana u dan, sa svakim malim dijalogom u koji se upustimo. Nekad je to nagli, bolni rast, gubitak koordinacije, nešto ka da preko lita narasteš 10 cm. Međutim, uglavnom je to polagani rast, suptilne mijene mišljenja, osjećaja i/ili senzornih doživljaja. I tako mi rastemo, a niti ne primjetimo, samo su mi najednom gaće prekratke.
Numere idu jedna za drugom ovako:
autor: DonTravolta, 18/06/2021
Arhiva
Well, he cursed all the roads and the oil men
And he cursed the automobile
Said; “This is no place for an hombre like I am
In this new world of asphalt and steel.”
Revolution come and gone
Behind your eyes, cut out the tongue
Transcend their lies, they try to hold back the dawn of revolution come and gone!
So scorn divine and mourn the pride
The cold has spoken and drawn the line
He doesn’t look anything like Jesus at all
Your friend, the one that you loved
Did you keep him on your side?
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