Monday, May 20, 2002
There's a certain person who'll probably never come to my website -- but I'll post this anyway to make that person smile and to confuse those of you who don't know whom I'm talkin to. (EVIL = me)
now we can say/ that nothings lost/ and only change/ brings round the prophecy/ well now it's melting/ the solid frost/ was once a veil on greener landscapes/ we would see/ beneath my surface/ the waters heating/ the steam comes up and out the tears/ you see me shine/ for every strange and bitter moment/ there was never a better time
for every pleasure/ exacts its pain/ how you hurt me/ how you were good to me/ beneath my window/ a mournful train/ that makes me smile/ at my bad poetry/ but beneath my surface/ a song is rising/ and it may be simple/ well it hides its true intent/ we may be looking for our deliverence/ but it has already been sent
it's in the nightfall/ when the light falls/ and what you've seen/ isn't there anymore/ it's in our blind trust/ love will find us/ just like it has before
they're sending soldiers/ to distant places/ x's and o's/ on someones drawing board/ like green and plastic/ but with human faces/ and they want to tell you/ it's a merciful sword/ but with all the blood/ newly dried in the desert/ can we not fertilize the land with something else/ there is no nation/ by god exempted/ lay down your weapons/ and love your neighbor as yourself
All righty, time for you to figure out who that lovely piece of poetry is from... ha ha ha (did I mention I'm evil? -- oh just run a search in google and stop whining.)
now we can say/ that nothings lost/ and only change/ brings round the prophecy/ well now it's melting/ the solid frost/ was once a veil on greener landscapes/ we would see/ beneath my surface/ the waters heating/ the steam comes up and out the tears/ you see me shine/ for every strange and bitter moment/ there was never a better time
for every pleasure/ exacts its pain/ how you hurt me/ how you were good to me/ beneath my window/ a mournful train/ that makes me smile/ at my bad poetry/ but beneath my surface/ a song is rising/ and it may be simple/ well it hides its true intent/ we may be looking for our deliverence/ but it has already been sent
it's in the nightfall/ when the light falls/ and what you've seen/ isn't there anymore/ it's in our blind trust/ love will find us/ just like it has before
they're sending soldiers/ to distant places/ x's and o's/ on someones drawing board/ like green and plastic/ but with human faces/ and they want to tell you/ it's a merciful sword/ but with all the blood/ newly dried in the desert/ can we not fertilize the land with something else/ there is no nation/ by god exempted/ lay down your weapons/ and love your neighbor as yourself
All righty, time for you to figure out who that lovely piece of poetry is from... ha ha ha (did I mention I'm evil? -- oh just run a search in google and stop whining.)
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