a reply to: RUFFREADY
What does your parents have to do with writing a book about your breakfast and that Starbucks mocha you had?
Trust you me there is nothing you have done in your life that would shock them, or anybody for that matter, its not like most peoples life's are some
mystery story, or anything but an open book.
Now I was thinking of writing a story about a bagel I once had for breakfast some months ago. But it would be wasted here as people just dont
appreciate such awesome quizzical writing talent, besides it could turn into a novel. So I will just post a song in tribute to said bagel, it was
one of the most tastiest bagels ever. It was a beautiful bagel man, the contents of which were like sweet nectar and ambrosia for but a moment or two
to the tongue. When I first behold said bagel I thought to myself " Wow now that's a bagel unlike any other bagel that came before, whence were from
come thee bagel with your golden crust and aroma of tastiness? What marvelous gods has made thee, truly it is a most fortunate fortune I stumble
upon this morning"
Tune in next week were I just may go into a dirge and write some poems about the bacon and eggs I had for breakfast. That is unless I got
better things to do.
The bells are ringing here at the moment and i smell something. Can you smell it too?
Böhse Onkelz - Finde Die Wahrheit
I smell fear,
I smell corruption
Paralyzed faith
Resignation
I smell a sick
A sick tired world
I smell greed
The greed for money
Find the truth
Do not be afraid
Find the truth
As long as you still can
Because the paths are long
Even death is not the end
Finally waking up, reaching my hands
Give me your hands -'ll Legend
I walk through the streets
And all I see are
Lost Souls
Faceless army
Corrupt cops
Schools full of idiots
False Gods
The wrong drug
Find the truth
Do not be afraid
Find the truth
As long as you still can
Because the paths are long
Even death is not the end
Finally waking up, reaching my hands
Give me your hands -'ll Legend
I smell bad
And bitterness comes over me
Life stinks
It stinks
I see the poverty of the rich
Their chains of gold
The shadow of the sky
A landscape in the minor
Find the truth
Do not be afraid
Find the truth
As long as you still can
Because the paths are long
Even death is not the end
Finally waking up, reaching my hands
Give me your hands -'ll Legend
edit on 11Sat, 28 Jun 2014 11:05:05 -0500America/Chicago6178America/ChicagoSat, 28 Jun 2014 11:05:05 -0500fam11
by Grenzerfahrung because: pah