
We are tired, we got nothing to believe in
But we are tired
We’re hardly breathing
And we’re free
Go tell the women that we’re leaving
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.”
Nakon izbivanja na neko vrime, bar u ovom formatu.
Numere teku ovako:
Goethe’s final words: “More light.” Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that’s been our unifying cry: “More light.” Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier’s field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we’re supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.
Chris Stevens -Chris in the morning (KBHR)
autor: DonTravolta, 11/05/2024
Arhiva

But we are tired
We’re hardly breathing
And we’re free
Go tell the women that we’re leaving

You’re scared of a world where you’re needed
So you never made nice with the locals

And I was drawing crazy pictures and before I was done
The pictures started pulsing like an alien lung
And I said “oh my god this is just begun”
And it was twelve more hours before I was done
We were up on the rooftop and I’ll tell you the truth
I was convinced I’d already fallen off of the roof
And these weird metal things rolling around in outta space
Were teleporting me from place to place
The last time I did acid I went insane
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