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[King Crimson, 1969]. . The wall on which the prophets wrote. Is cracking at the seams.. Upon the instruments of death. The sunlight brightly gleams..
An empty room. What are we living for. It is for you. It is for me. Another weak soul. -why is it so hard. Is home far from here. Can you tell me. Whar are we living for.
There must still be the soul that you have left behind, hidden somewhere. in the deep, deep of the forest, lying among the trees. . People who are too tired they just dont look around any farther.
Starry eyed explorer found another flag to drop. In the form of loose pills to conquer her America.. One straight to the head; a tight grasp towards her pocket:.
Faded thoughts reveal passages of time. Time slips away cannot face this rising hell. Hell awaits the non- believers of old. Old memories of silence scream in through my soul.
One more breath. is one too many. Wither away soon to die. Nothing left of this badly. burned shell. Relinquish my breathing. . Feeling so cold. The silence is deafening.
I'm enslaved by the weekdays. By the names Monday to Friday. I'm enslaved by the things said. And everywhere I go a little secret. . And I wish that you would come here.
Race of men - somewhere east beyond the mountains - Evil Rites. Spoken in an unknown tongue - charms chanted on the tops of temple. Built to reach the deepest cavities of HADES - great delight at their shrines....
Upon the road whence no return, where bowls of clay are heaped upon the Altar. To the Land of Queen ERESHKIGAL, where sleeps the dread CTHULHU, I set forth!.
The walls are closing in on me. I'm getting dizzy and it's hard to see. My lungs are heacy and it hurts me to breathe. Can't lift my head, stare at my feet.
Everyday I look in the mirror and I'm always changing.. Everyday I look in the mirror and I'm never quite the same.. Sticks and stones may break my bones,.
Baby Come on in unplug the phone. No need for stressing cause my mama aint at home. We could do it till the break of break of dawn, lets get it on. until the morning....
I am the stopwatch on a bomb.. I have no the strength to carry on.. My valediction waits for me.. It makes me scared to go to sleep.. My destination can't be far..
Every Word I Say. ----------------. I've given you my statement. Now my mind feels very spoiled. Now that these thoughts have been spoken. One half of their meaning is gone.
We ride our bikes around the circle in the cemetery weaving. I wave up to You on the Cross. Am I to come upon You suddenly like this forever?. Happy, relieved that You are here and I can see You.