Smodden
empty space finds its way to other places/
don't wory about it, it'll pass just like it always has. I love the night, the way it brings to me all thoughts of uncertainty, insanity makes me fight off the offtopic bable. Did I say bable? I didn't 'say' it...I typed it...Why do I scrutinize everything?! let it be...let it pass, wait till the morning, then the sun will clear away, all the darkness, in my life, the nothing can ensnare me, exept the un-thinkable, the way everybody likes to run, the way everybody likes to hide. Take it from me, don't take it from me...dont' contradict yourself...
Over again I find myself falling, but its in reverse...so does that mean I'm flying?
go back.
What happend to the golden timpiece...dangling by a gold chain kept securly in the gentlmen's pocket? destroyed be the ever changing society...It colapsed upon the earth, never to be seen again, never to be seen by the gentlman.
He walks, casually on the pier, his mangled beard swaying in the breeze, his tatered clothes finding homes in the saltwater. Was he always like this? Did he ever belong? Did he ever have a family? someone who loved him? Its been so long, he's forgoton about his old life. It started with a trip to the pub. IT ended in a game of chance...and continues with his fight to live...
Long walks, in the night, by the seaside.
He talks to himself to keep him company...sometimes having arguments, othertimes raising his voice so loud, he's screaming at himself, wondering where his bottle has gone...for a time he lays in the sand, and sleeps, if it can be called sleep. for a slumber so deep and so calm, and for so long...is it sleep? it was the last dream he ever had...:
Sitting at home with his family, the fire burning bright...his children embraced about his ankles as he reads to them. He can smell the bread...He can feel his wife, He can taste his pipe, He can hear his children....Laughing and sining and just like the way it was before, he finds himself remembering...recalling, and re'living' his past hapiness....
When they found him, he was lying in the sand, clutching the timpiece in his hand....they caried him away and his ashes were scatered on the beach...and the timpiece thown into the depths of the ocean...incased in a bottle, and thrown with chance.
don't wory about it, it'll pass just like it always has. I love the night, the way it brings to me all thoughts of uncertainty, insanity makes me fight off the offtopic bable. Did I say bable? I didn't 'say' it...I typed it...Why do I scrutinize everything?! let it be...let it pass, wait till the morning, then the sun will clear away, all the darkness, in my life, the nothing can ensnare me, exept the un-thinkable, the way everybody likes to run, the way everybody likes to hide. Take it from me, don't take it from me...dont' contradict yourself...
Over again I find myself falling, but its in reverse...so does that mean I'm flying?
go back.
What happend to the golden timpiece...dangling by a gold chain kept securly in the gentlmen's pocket? destroyed be the ever changing society...It colapsed upon the earth, never to be seen again, never to be seen by the gentlman.
He walks, casually on the pier, his mangled beard swaying in the breeze, his tatered clothes finding homes in the saltwater. Was he always like this? Did he ever belong? Did he ever have a family? someone who loved him? Its been so long, he's forgoton about his old life. It started with a trip to the pub. IT ended in a game of chance...and continues with his fight to live...
Long walks, in the night, by the seaside.
He talks to himself to keep him company...sometimes having arguments, othertimes raising his voice so loud, he's screaming at himself, wondering where his bottle has gone...for a time he lays in the sand, and sleeps, if it can be called sleep. for a slumber so deep and so calm, and for so long...is it sleep? it was the last dream he ever had...:
Sitting at home with his family, the fire burning bright...his children embraced about his ankles as he reads to them. He can smell the bread...He can feel his wife, He can taste his pipe, He can hear his children....Laughing and sining and just like the way it was before, he finds himself remembering...recalling, and re'living' his past hapiness....
When they found him, he was lying in the sand, clutching the timpiece in his hand....they caried him away and his ashes were scatered on the beach...and the timpiece thown into the depths of the ocean...incased in a bottle, and thrown with chance.
I just made it up...
i think 