Time's winding down friends. The witching hour is almost upon us.. I can't tell you how much I'll miss our night rides together.. When I push back from this mike and get out of the old chair with a broken seat, that's when the sadness starts..
The night seems so calm, doesn't it?. As if time is frozen. The city below used to sound like a mechanic motion moving in giant waves. Now, it's silent.
There's a book by an author named Carol S. Pearson from the mid-70s called The Hero Within: Six Archetypes We Live By. Even though it's nearly forty years old, the book still speaks of the journey each of us takes through our lives.
From the center of nowhere. Atop the shoulders of giants. Above the creeping fog of disinformation that clouds the American union. This is Will 'O the Wisp.
Split the sky asunder,. Noble huntress Of the clan.. . In your left hand raise the sword. In your right hand cast a spear.. Summon all the thieves and bastards.
Without diversity, in our society. where the hell would we stand?. we whine and complain, about things we will never explain. instead of dealing with the problems at hand.
6 billion minds, controlled by one. 10,000 more, stare down the barrel of a gun. annihilation by a system of our own design. your definition of freedom, my friend, needs to be redefined.
this is a ben banna. lets go to theeeee. banna store. drop my opnation. time for cops. wellll?. hit them now. see this?. oh oh oh oh. oh oh oh oh. this is a ben banna.
Lullaby of birdland, that's what I. Always hear when you sigh. Never in my wordland. Could there be ways to reveal. In a phrase how I feel. . Have you ever heard two turtle doves.
Love is a many splendored thing. It's the April rose that only grows in the early Spring. Love is nature's way of giving a reason to be living. The golden crown that makes a man a king.
You know the feeling of something half remembered. Of something that never happened, yet you recall it well. You know the feeling of recognizing someone.
Like a vibration. My reputation is hanging around my neck. It's hanging out in bars. But my perception of my perception. Is my confederate corn. It won't do me no good now.