A lost poem is written on a lyre and the song is called throughout the strangeness of a strange train.
Abuse and let be abused, the rain’s pouring, the candles on, the dark room whispers softly. Where the outrageous takes form in paper and ink.
A song, a book, a movie and that’s all.
Two people in the street are chitchatting all over. The small talk unravels
What have you got for lunch?
Sausages, mixed eggs, du fromage and tuna fish, and you?
Bacon, salad and plenty of corn.
Look at the red!!
Search the horizon!!
Try to be beyond!!
Where’s that!!
Where’s that!!
What?!!
Who?!!
When?!!
The irony is in the air the simplicity is elsewhere, lost places, deserted angles and sarcasm everywhere.
Can’t you see it?!!
The irony is in the air the simplicity is elsewhere, lost places, deserted angles and sarcasm everywhere.
Can’t you see it?!!
The angles inside pyramids, triangles, rectangles, an oval figure in the landscape.
Forget what you saw and give meaning to things, live to what was written and told, that’s the eye in the way.
Spy as much as you like but the hammer’s there and the nail is tired.
In a room elsewhere someone’s talking to a wall and figuring a speech.
A songbook is on my head and I can’t put it in an instrument, I don’t have the energy for it.
Energy, that’s all needed; don’t lose focus.
The notes can’t be expressed, the feelings mature and rotten.
Smoke is everywhere, energy, batteries, needles, and screws are part of the fabric of your body.
Notes and scorpions, headaches and nurtured ideas in the air.
Leaves are falling, I’m feeling rotten with all this paper that I have on, but I can’t live with it or without it, otherwise, I would be naked, bared and exposed.
A bottle of Jack Daniel’s and everything is on, clues remain clues and you’re naked without being.
The ink, I can’t breath the glue is too much to forget, pieces fall and another existence begins; the entrails are gutted, semi dressed and holes everywhere, my existence remain pointless.
An object to caress, destruction of one’s inner spirits and a desperate need to feel tenderness, to protect and be pretty, losing self esteem, serving a master that is a god, since he doesn’t feel the same as I.
Smoking and the fog is lost, the oxygen fails and bottles are empty, only the songbook In my head, the creation of something new, that is long forgotten, can be pushed to the limits or be limitless.
Forget what you saw and give meaning to things, live to what was written and told, that’s the eye in the way.
Spy as much as you like but the hammer’s there and the nail is tired.
In a room elsewhere someone’s talking to a wall and figuring a speech.
A songbook is on my head and I can’t put it in an instrument, I don’t have the energy for it.
Energy, that’s all needed; don’t lose focus.
The notes can’t be expressed, the feelings mature and rotten.
Smoke is everywhere, energy, batteries, needles, and screws are part of the fabric of your body.
Notes and scorpions, headaches and nurtured ideas in the air.
Leaves are falling, I’m feeling rotten with all this paper that I have on, but I can’t live with it or without it, otherwise, I would be naked, bared and exposed.
A bottle of Jack Daniel’s and everything is on, clues remain clues and you’re naked without being.
The ink, I can’t breath the glue is too much to forget, pieces fall and another existence begins; the entrails are gutted, semi dressed and holes everywhere, my existence remain pointless.
An object to caress, destruction of one’s inner spirits and a desperate need to feel tenderness, to protect and be pretty, losing self esteem, serving a master that is a god, since he doesn’t feel the same as I.
Smoking and the fog is lost, the oxygen fails and bottles are empty, only the songbook In my head, the creation of something new, that is long forgotten, can be pushed to the limits or be limitless.
Je veux faire des nouvelles choses.
Ich will mein kopf am links, Ich will vergessen, denken und trinken, weil es wichtig ist.
Trotzdem ich finde das ich mache dinge fuer mich, die welt muss warten.
Deranged, naked and raw, the speedways, the highways, the lines, the notes.
Deranged, naked and raw, the speedways, the highways, the lines, the notes.
I have them all here. Why don’t you take them!!
They aren’t mine, ich denke das alles muss neu sein, wie ein kopf das ein gummi hat.
Fliegen und machen; es ist muzzik, es ist ein buch.
They aren’t mine, ich denke das alles muss neu sein, wie ein kopf das ein gummi hat.
Fliegen und machen; es ist muzzik, es ist ein buch.
Papier fuer schreiben.
Du musst energie haben, deiner arbeit machen oder du bist nicht da und du bist nicht du.
Ich will ziehen mich an, du bist nicht da.
Kannst du mich verstehen?!!
Ich will wasser haben und ich will viel leute machen und verstehen. Sie sind mir und ich bin dir.
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