CineArteMusica

A true love of mine.

Please see for me if her hair hangs long, if it rolls and flows all down her breast. Please see for me if her hair hangs long, that's the way I remember her best.
I'm a-wonderin' if she remembers me at all. Many times I've often prayed in the darkness of my night, in the brightness of my day.
So if you're travelin' in the north country fair, where the winds hit heavy on the borderline, remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Night, arise.

So many years.
Months and days have come in and out of time as waves on a long and distant beach.
Memories seem to fade and moments passed seem to shrink inside a worried mind.
Sometimes the eyes seem so wet that it's almost impossible to see.
Dry the years, let them fade away while we grow inmortal.
Taking deep breaths of new air to feel each second. Because we now each minute counts.
And as we grow old we come to think of old days of happiness and warmth.
Long they have stayed in our dark memory.
Let them out.
Spit the poison and tell the whole truth to the world.
Each one of our victims have the right to know.
We haven't been kind, and time is having us on his account.
Scream.
Tell the moon that you don't care for anything anymore.
And feel the lies coming up thru your veins as dry blood in your arms.
We are afraid.
Because time has been bold and we haven't been kind.
Do not despair, our time will come.
And sooner or later our whole army of buffons will take over the earth.
We will laugh last.
We will soon arise.

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