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  • James Yorkston St.Patrick
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    aSecondBeforeSunrise
    A Cure For The Soul
    02-02-2010
    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.My Own Stream
    I've never thought about it twice
    about how my life needed some more spice
    I guess I only realised it a while ago
    when the thought entered my head to say no
    No, to the way things were going
    to resist the direction the stream was flowing
    grasped the nearest branch hanging of an old tree
    pulled myself on the shore and opened my eyes to see
    a whole new country with possibilities all around me
    made me, for the first time in a long time, feel free
    life offers most at unexpected times
    setting new rules and creating lines
    roads being opened to all sorts of new places
    the meeting and greeting of new faces
    a new chapter in anyone's life
    could hold happiness or strife
    but basically that's what life's about and more
    You never really know what it has in store
    behind every corner there's a new surprise
    good or bad, truth or lies
    the basis on which everyone builds their lives
    to ponder and make up their minds
    The question if there's ever a correct answer is never asked
    because no answer ever lasts
    You can go on making plans or live day by day
    but in the end you're never sure it'll go your way
    I've stopped making demands of my future
    I've stopped making demands of my life
    I've stopped making demands guided by dreams
    I've decided to live life day by day
    and create

    my

    own


    stream.

    02-02-2010 om 23:40 geschreven door Ezeh  

    0 1 2 3 4 5 - Gemiddelde waardering: 4/5 - (1 Stemmen)
    Klik hier om een link te hebben waarmee u dit artikel later terug kunt lezen.Guy on the train
    Distant lands filled with nothing but sand
    faint sounds of a starving marching band
    playing that final song before they're gone
    they march on in a place where they don't belong.
    These images flash through my head as I stare into his dying eyes
    He averts them and stares out the window, enforces the disguise
    He doesn't want to be confronted with the pain embedded on his soul
    He still feels restless and uneasy even though his body is failing and getting old
    I can't help but feel sorry for him, but I leave him be
    It's hard for him, the swelling of tears in his eyes is for everyone to see
    The burden that he's carrying is something I'll probably never know
    and in essence, it's irrelevant, not something anyone should show
    He coughs loudly and wipes away his tears
    the alcohol in the beer he's drinking is supposed to wash away his fears
    His weary eyes close for a minute and then they open as the train slows down
    He guzzles down the last drops of beer and looks outside with a frown
    He gets up, muffles his coughing, and gets off the train
    Leaving me wondering if, one day, I'll end up the same
    His smell still lingers as the train moves on..

    02-02-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Ezeh  

    0 1 2 3 4 5 - Gemiddelde waardering: 5/5 - (1 Stemmen)


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