The Trees, Silent Witnesses
We've carved our names on the bark of our treedom that grows wildly out of shape like uniformed freedom, both a barbed wire state of bliss and a maximum security love prison. The trees tell no secrets
I took an air-rifle, shot a magpie to the ground & it died without a sound.
Your skin so pale against the fallen Autumn leaves &
No-one saw us but the trees.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees produce the air that I am breathing.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees; they never said that you were leaving.
I carved your name with a heart just up above - now swollen,
Distorted, unrecognizable; like our love.
The smell of leaf mold & the sweetness of decay
Are the incense at the funeral procession here, today.
In the trees, those useless trees produce the air that I am breathing.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees; they never said that you were leaving.
You try to shape the world to what you want the world to be.
Carving your name a thousand times won't bring you back to me.
Oh no, no I might as well go & tell it to the trees.
Go & tell it to the trees, yeah.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees produce the air that I am breathing.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees; they never said that you were leaving.
Go & tell it to the trees, yeah.
J-oy-riders
The intellectual protagonist of Eye and his best screw driver friends of Me and Myself enjoy driving around on Saturday nights, not really looking for trouble, wink wink, and having fun, oh no, no goofing around, please? These lads have a crude sense of humor and like to joke about smashing things, like smashing hits, like not smashing underage gals. Oo…
Our Anthem For The Ages
Our Anthem For The AgesThanks for reading Epiphany Beyond A Biblical Scale! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. - Enjoying the whole forbidden fruit is turning us on even more. Now, you can tell some lies about the good times that we've had.
i s P y
It is the powder apex of Libor Cocker’s preoccupation with class hatred; it is the ultimate example of Libidoe-as-intellectual-threat. The Libertine of this P seeking & finding song, replete with milk and cream without any obscenity, is trapped and seething, filled with genuine contempt and disdain, but utterly aware of his own value
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