Every song is a love song.
Whether it professes a love of peace, war, life, people, or the tune itself.
Every song is a prayer.
Whether a conscious or subconscious reaching for the thing we crave.
Every song is a riddle.
Whether the answer is known or not when the writer conceives it or the singer sings it.
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Walk behind me father
That my legs run with fervor
Gaze upon me father
That I may see all as equal
Speak to me father
That I may be silent and listen
Despise me father
That I may love as you do not
Destroy me father
That I may build from the ashes
Birds born in a cage think flying is an illness.
My brain has no heart, and my heart has no brain. That’s why when I speak my mind, I appear heartless and when I do what’s in my heart I seem thoughtless.
Another good reason to quit. I found that my latest escapades have caused nerve damage. It really should scare me but I want more.
If there is a God, He will have to beg my forgiveness.
People speak sometimes about the ‘bestial’ cruelty of man, but that is terribly unjust and offensive to beasts, no animal could ever be so cruel as a man, so artfully, so artistically cruel.
For the philosopher is right who says that nothing thicker than a knife’s blade separates happiness from melancholy…
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