hmm...I'll leave you with this...
"Time are hard when things have got no meaning
I found a key upon the floor
Maybe you and I will not believe in the things
We find behind the door"
Stand By Me -- Oasis


Easy DayThese are the last words That I'll write For the sake Of hating youEasy Day
Things left unsaid Things left unchanged I'm sick of playing This monotonous game Our world revolves Around fame and riches Your diamonds cut Leaving me in stitches
Your words are full Of venom and lies You see right through me With your villain's eyes But I am here I will never leave I will cast your soul Into the sea
Drown me out With your silent screams Everything is exactly The way it seems You are mortal &nbs


Cigarettes And Embalming FluidI saw you Two weeks ago The last time We actually spokeCigarettes And Embalming Fluid
You confessed Your deepest secrets And we fit Like a hand in a glove
You think You have me Wrapped around Your little finger
But mine Is on the trigger And its time For me to deliver
To you This is all just fun I'm not a game So stop playing me


There's No Room For YouSoaked to the bone again You're just Another rain cloud Over my head Your tears Are well rehearsed Must have been Something he said There is no time To repair Your broken heart I must go now And My new umbrella Will keep me dryThere's No Room For You


Hotdogs In A HallwayTickHotdogs In A Hallway
The clock strikes one Mother has nothing But a stolen gun
Tick
A round black face With emerald arms Stares back at me Silently mocking Provoking
A sadistic hatred For time
Tick
The seconds The minutes and hours Fly past me At the speed of light It feels like a day But a year has passed And I'm stuck Here where I stand I've grown into the ground
Tick
In a moment The Doomsday clock Will stike midnight I guarantee Everyone will die


without?The beach is obliviating sand and seaglass, rocks making war against the shells. Shores sag with age -without?
Waves would be like horses.
Hills crack under aeons. Sheep - nothing but wild - tread paths their own Colourblind guardians of flowers that might be grass.
What is the shade of the desert? Is it rustred or merely the place Where the heat cannot hunt? The mirage never shows itself to glassy eyes, Lizards gaze objective and scaled.
Streams run clean and dirty inbetween.
Wheat grows, waving blindly To a sky unknowing, To
impulse.
--
"He not busy being born is busy dying."
- Bob Dylan
--
"Take some time to make some sense of what you want to say and cast your words away upon the waves." - Oasis
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