
My brothers gather round me, they see me when I’m down
Chewed into shape like a stone on the shore
But if there was lightning in me
You’d know who it was for
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.
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autor: DonTravolta, 18/06/2021
Arhiva

Chewed into shape like a stone on the shore
But if there was lightning in me
You’d know who it was for

The lamb can wander from the flock
In shopping malls and parking lots
Sometimes the shepherd brings him back
Some nights the wheels just spin

And more than once I’ve paid a woman for the night,
in certain circles that’s alright.
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