We make ritual noise. We make ritual noise. We make ritual noise. We make ritual noise. . We make ritual noise. We weave the fabric of dreams. We build cities of sound.
My eyes grow darker. Can barely see your face. Yesterday I tried to belong. You know I won't stay that long. . In a time of lust and liars. I learned to trust my own desires.
lights blur shifting slightly, always the rain. he's there hunting nightly, driven by pain. burns fast shining brightly, dies in vain. he's there, speaking lightly of life in pain.
Pale luminescent face. Cumulescent grace now. Borne in shades of. Ruinous blue. . Thin, like the river's wrinkled skin. All the mirrors in the heavens.
I've felt so alone. waiting for a day. that might never come.. I can't look in your eyes.. It's hard for me to see you this way. when my hands are tied..
When I went to school. Well I went to school. When I went to school in olympia. And everyone's the same. What do you do. We're the revolution. When I went to school in olympia.
Love hangs herself. With the bedsheets in her cell. Threw myself on fires for you. 10 good reasons to stay alive. 10 good reasons that I can't find. .
Come closer now. Let me feel your heart beat. Just stay here forever. . Sometimes I wonder. Is this real or am I. Only waiting to wake up?. . Right before my eyes.
I feel it coming down from a far off place. I need assistance with a change of pace. In my heart now, there's an empty space. But you can change it, bring your heart my way.
Step out the front door like a ghost. Into the fog where no one notices. The contrast of white on white.. . And in between the moon and you. The angels get a better view.
Oh Shannon. I might be dreaming'. The stars fell down on the factory. The cathedrals repeating, the light receding. Bells on another day. Have you ever seen my face.
Got a message in my head. that the papers had all gone. Richard Manuel is dead. And the daylight's coming on. I've been wandering through the dark. now I'm standing on the lawn.
( Original by Gram Parsons). . Won't you scratch my itch sweet Annie Rich. and welcome me back to town. Come out on your porch or I'll step into your parlor.
Gonna get back to basics. Guess I'll start it up again. I'm falling' from the ceilin'. You're falling from the sky now and then. . Maybe you were shot down in pieces.
This is not the end, we've only just begun,. pieces of happiness are the things that I'll miss,. though I can't walk away while I'm still this afraid,.
This circus is falling down on its knees. The big top is crumbling down. It's raining in Baltimore fifty miles east. Where you should be, no one's around.
When I think of Heaven, deliver me in a black-winged bird. I think of flying down in your sea of pens and feathers. And all other instruments of faith and sex and God.
The tepid carcass examinately reclines on my table. Its peculiar muscular activity, rigor mortis, works in. my favor. Determining PMI through rigid, bone-cracking means.
(S. Cossette, M. Langis / M. Langis). Seras-tu a Paris en decembre. Ou bien a Venise au Nouvel An. Ou seras-tu en avril, en septembre. Loin de moi, loin de moi.
(S. Cossette / S. Cossette). Je t'offre aujourd'hui. Car hier s'est eteint. Je te donne tout de suite. Car demain, c'est trop loin. Je te tends le present.