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Well it was one of those great stories. That you can't put down at night. Tha hero knew what he had to do. And he wasn't afraid to fight. The villain goes to jail, while the hero goes free.
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You want to know how it will be. Me and her, or you and me. You both stand there, your long hair flowing. Your eyes alive, your mind still growing. Saying to me what can we do now that we both love you.
I thought that I had met a man who said. That he knew a man who knew what was going on. I was mistaken, was only another stranger that I knew. . And I thought that I had found daylight.
It's hard enough, I know. To find the strength to go. Back to where it all began. It's hard to enough to gain. Any traction in the rain. You know it's hard for me to understand.
[Instrumental (Electric Guitars)]. I wonder who they are. The men who really run this land. And I wonder why they run it. With such a thoughtless hand.
If you smile at me, I will understand. 'Cause that is something. Everybody everywhere does in the same language. . I can see by your coat, my friend. You're from the other side.
People do so many things that make me mad but. Angry isn't how I want to spend what time I have. Cognitive dissonance they call it. I wonder just how small it.
A slice of time. Curling, peeling. Back from the edge of the knife. . Light fluttering. As if between two trains. Motordrive frames of life. . Long blends of days.
I used to walk around with my eyes on fire. My nerves real close to my skin. Had a fist full of questions and a brand on my cheek. And we would skate where the ice got thin.
His open eyes. At first light. We see. An echo of his mothers smile. . At her breast. His sister pressed. Outside. The sun begins to warm the ancient tile.
Everybody's saying music is love. Everybody's saying it's you know it is, mmm. Everyone yes everyone. Everyone's saying music music is love. Everybody's saying that music is love (music is love).
My country 'tis of thee. Sweet land of liberty. Of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died. Land of the pilgrim's pride. From every mountainside. Let freedom ring.
Just like in the movies a message. Comes through all the static and hiss. Pulling just enough words from the storm filled sky. To know that someone somewhere needs this.
Waking stream of consciousness. On a sleeping street of dream. Thoughts like scattered leaves. Slowed in mid fall into the streams. . Of fast running rivers of choice and chance.
Find a heart that you can speak to. In the language of your own soul. In the stillness of the water. Find the peace to make you whole. A passage to illumination.
It was one of those great stories. That you can't put down at night. The hero knew what he had to do. And he wasn't afraid to fight. The villain goes to jail.
After holding on to nothing for awhile. I glanced to see what waited there. A shadow leaning easy by a window. A scent of something recent in the air.