Could I change the way you feel?. Could I make you see there's more than holding on?. Can you ever let your heart believe again?. . So this is where we are.
The past we seek some certainty. The seasons we remember. The light of May and darkest days. The month we call November. . To leave behind the wasted time.
You play guitar for perfect strangers. You write some words they try to sell. And then you sing these things in public. Sometimes not very well. . You get paid to go to parties.
Turning the wheel to emptiness. There when you breathe your final breath. No one to hold you anymore. Haven't they told you, baby. . You're always alive.
Look at history, open the books,. There are statues with great looks,. There are gods, there are kings,. I'm pretty sure I'm the same thing.. Beyond boundaries, beyond rules,.
He beat the drum and lit the fires. He sent the messages in vain. But the sound of his philosophy. Rose above the falling rain. . And to you who find it difficult.
So good to meet you, Mr. Chess. I've always heard that you're the best. At housing knights. And castles high up in the air. . So I beseech you, Mr. Chess.
There the bones do sleep. And there the soul is soul. And there the Gods do weep. When the angels fall. . But here the thoughts won't keep. And here the blood runs cold.
Threading through the evening. It's later than I thought. A friend of mine is waiting. For cigarettes I brought. . She smiles, she seems so tired. So nothing is required.
You see them everywhere, you know those magazines. Yeah I've bought a few, they show you everything. So many news stands, well as I'm passing by. Rows and rows of you bound to catch my eye.
Once, it was good. It was everything. Once, it was good. It was song. Then you pretended, it was meant to be. But somehow you knew it was wrong. Somehow you knew.
Here the world is desert gray. Never do I see the day. Here there is different light. There's only night, only night. . Just a trace of gravity. Nothing to hold on to me.
Oh, so cold. . Evening gray consumed in dark. No more day to hold me. Sounds won't stay to play their part. Only what strangers told me. Why is the ghost who listens so cold and alone?.
Simon, he was a man. Held his heart out in his hand. A hollow land of autumn breeze. . Evenings in the brittle rain. Leaves that fill the barren plain.
Some sweet perversion on the telephone line. I've been waiting for such a very long time. For her to be free. . The evening was nice but there were too many people.
I leave town, take a ride. Maybe see the countryside. All green and gold. I'll breathe a better air I'm told. . The city life is fine. But is seems like all the time.
TIMOTHY PRICE:. This can't go on forever. There's something wrong. Feels like I'm dying all the time.. Can you feel it ending?. Did it ever start?. . PATRICK BATEMAN:.
I present to you a story. set upon a northern shore. the denizens of lighthouse. during times of war. . the foolish things they did. the foolish things they said.
I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord. And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord. Oh Lord.
For all the good you say it does. Seems no better when you've had your say. You may believe it's just because. Words get colder when you've gone away.