Io danzo al ritmo dei foll
E prego che mi troviate matto,
Dato che, se mai metterete mano alle mie ragioni,
Mi guarderete senza illusioni
E troverete che sono colpevole della verità.La vita è un sottobosco fitto di rovi
Eccomi, circa...
(per i tatoo ci sto lavorando)
Rivoglio le mie ali nere, il mio mantello
La chiave della felicità è la disobbedienza in se
A quello che non c’è
Perciò io maledico il modo in cui sono fatto
Il mio modo di morire sano e salvo dove m’attacco
Il mio modo vigliacco di restare sperando che ci sia
Quello che non c’è Companions the creator seeks, not corpses, not herds and believers. Fellow creators the creator seeks--those who write new values on new tablets. Companions the creator seeks, and fellow harvesters; for everything about him is ripe for the harvest
E LASCIATE QUALCHE COMMENTO!!
(questo BLOG è stato visitato 1959 volte)
ULTIMI 10 VISITATORI:
ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite
[ ELENCO ULTIMI COMMENTI RICEVUTI ]
giovedì 17 maggio 2007 - ore 21:05
...SPONO!!...
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
NUOOOOOOO
Hanno spostato un’impegno a mia madre e non avrò piu la casa libera per tutto il week end!!!!
NUOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Questo mi scombina i piani...
LEGGI I COMMENTI (2)
-
PERMALINK
mercoledì 16 maggio 2007 - ore 20:55
Silent Spring
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
They ravaged the land
And polluted the seas
They burned all the forests
Or cut down the trees
They damaged up the rivers
And paved all the shores
Built Parking lots
And discount Stores
Then they started to die
But not fast enough
So, they shot at each other
With bullets and stuff
Chalk it all up to human greed
As seen on your TV
So much cruelty and madness
In these days of despair
That’s not the way that I am, No
That’s not the way that I am
As the eath gets sicker and sicker
A solider aims and pulls the trigger
Angels cry and demons laugh
Another suicide bomb blood bath
Silent Spring - No Birds Sing
Angels Cry - We all die
Mother Earth wept
As they tore off her dress
Heart broken, humiliated
In a state of distress
They ripped out her hair
And they scratched at her skin
Drained her of fluids
Then committed their sin
They gouged out her eyes
And cauterized her womb
They sealed up her mouth
And made her a tomb
Now she lies still
At the mercy of man
I whisper in her ear
"That’s not the way that I am"
No, that’s not the way that I am
No, that’s not the way that I am
No, that’s not the way that I am!
Oggi ho fatto una camminata di qualche Km, per rincasare dalla videoteca ai lati della strada ho notato un gran numero di passeri morti...
Mi fa venire in mente un vecchio libro
Chiamato Silent Spring, che parlava della campagna americana e di come l’uso e l’abuso di pesticidi e sostanze tossiche avevano decimato la popolazione avicola della campagna media...
Chissa se anche qui c’è la mano dell’uomo o è stata solo una giornata dura per molti passeri...
Mah...
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
martedì 15 maggio 2007 - ore 23:31
...My Life...
(categoria: " Pensieri ")
...I wander in a starless night...
...I feel blank...
...I lost hope...
...sono solo passato e nulla piu...
...nessuno imparera da me...
...nessuno avra bisogno di me...
...sono fatto per essere scartato, dimenticato...
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
giovedì 10 maggio 2007 - ore 21:53
Va tutto a rotoli
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
I close my eyes for a second
And curse my fragile soul
I scream to hide that I’m lonely
The echo calls my name
Make me see. Make me be
Make me understand you’re there for me
Take this life, I’m right here
Stay awhile and breathe me in
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
mercoledì 9 maggio 2007 - ore 11:32
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
martedì 8 maggio 2007 - ore 12:08
Demotivator
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
It’s always the darkest before it goes pitch black
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
martedì 8 maggio 2007 - ore 10:16
Sirens
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
Pessimism aside, I’ll search to the edge of the earth just to find the,
Enchantment of her voice in perfect rapture.
Steered by the sound of persuasive song, seeking absolution
With tears to match my plaintive woes, we’ll create our own truths.
Through these timeless fables, for this I’ve waited so long.
The fates have spun a noose, it seems,
Please siren set me free,
And ravish me with seraphic song.
Seduction leaves the lips of the exquisite siren (exquisite siren).
Attired in white, leaving me in a asphyxiated reverie.
Can we re-write history, we’ll create our own truths.
Develop an ending without you drowning in the black depths.
The fates have spun a noose, it seems,
Please siren set me free,
And ravish me with seraphic song.
With each note and word I fell victim to the sound of her,
Resplendence personified.
Set me free,
Siren, set me free, free, free.
The fates have spun a noose, it seems,
Please siren set me free,
And ravish me with seraphic song.
With each note and word I fell victim to the sound of her,
Resplendence personified.
Oh, siren, set me free,
Siren, set, siren, set me free.
Ravish my with seraphic song
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
martedì 8 maggio 2007 - ore 10:08
The Conqueror Worm
(categoria: " Musica e Canzoni ")
Lo! ’tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.
Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly-
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Woe!
That motley drama- oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out- out are the lights- out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
martedì 8 maggio 2007 - ore 09:56
Papa Innocente 30
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
Decadente come piace a me... Molto in stile manson... piacevole...Visitatevi il sito che merita!!
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
