Wednesday, September 01, 2004
- 7:51 pm
smoke on the water
so we say fuck it, and start a new life from scratch
20 days is a mind numbingly short period of time
Shoulda been, coulda been
Woulda been dead
If I didn't get the message
Goin' to my head
I am what I am
Most motherfuckers
Don't give a damn
Aw baby think you can
Be my girl, I'll be your man
and so another day passes, the sun sets again, the moon rears herself up on a trail of cosmic dust and the cycle is repeated again. and if i die tonight in my sleep, itll happen again. and the next day. nothing will change. my passing may be mourned for a few days, and after that i will fade into obscurity.
and if i die for today, you will live for tomorrow
and still you will know love for a greater part of it hang still 'pon your head
cmon child in time, ill teach you
and so we are hardpressed to continue although not much sense is to be derived from continuity when already informed of the fact that there will be an end, and that end is coming soon. still when pandora, the first woman on earth, wife of epithemeus, brother to prometheus the goodly titan opened that box and released all manner of sin unto the world, there was a little voice, and it cried
"let me out! i am hope!"
for prometheus in his far sightedness had placed hope in the box knowing that Zeus might trick his foolish brother in such a manner, with the gift of woman.
i walked down to this bakery a short while ago and i met sam and her flashy new boyfriend.
so its night, and the lamp post outside the balcony, flickers - and dies.
please live, and come back for me.
i am not yet dead
hit the stars
