What a drag it is getting old....
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.
Journal created:
on 27 March 2003 (#970771)
Updated:
on 4 June 2005
Name:
Yam
Location:
Nashville, North Carolina, United States
Website:
And there's no mountain too high,
No river too wide.
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side.
Storm clouds may gather,
And stars may collide,
But I will love you until the end of time.
true_outcast & audio_slave Nov. 9, 2004The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older;
shorter of breath and one day closer to death.
Nothing's new and nothing's true,
and nothing matters.
--My father's senior quote;
Doc David Evans, 1963, Nashville High School, Nashville, North Carolina.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
--W.B. Yeats.
They love to pretend they’re all aware
The sad truth remains that nothing’s there
Nothing to prove that it’s all unfair
I would love to end this sad affair
Pretension rots on the staircase here
The mob gathers and drinks their cheap beer
I suppose it’s nice to live in fear
I wish I could destroy it all, dear
They all rest in their beds, safe and sound
No nightmares of the impending hound
A lovely building, fake all around
I’d love to raze it down to the ground
--Me.
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Pinprick holes in a colourless sky,
Let insipid figures of light pass by,
The mighty light of ten thousand suns,
Challenges infinity and is soon gone.
Night time, to some a brief interlude,
To others the fear of solitude.
Brave Helios wake up your steeds,
Bring the warmth the countryside needs.
Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day's useless energy spent.
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son,
Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion???
--The Moody Blues.
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