quarta-feira, março 24, 2004
Know your own place, like the obedient little dog you are. No steel and no blame are ever the same. Rethink, come again to see what you might want. Stand still and claim the will to stay. Things are never the same, again and again. Know your own place, don't desire much else, then to belong to yourself, afraid, your own state, your own place. Once a year you can travel broke to the land of swollen fingers and knots in trees, just here you can't please, you can't be yourself. One more time, one more regret, although never the same, your own, your blame, is not your own. Forget about Jesus, caves of old, and be kind to those you hold, forget the rest, forget response or mind of blind and take the hand that fills your sign. You're not your own, just take your place, and behave, and nothing else, you're not your own. Outside the snow falls down so slow, I feel the need, the absurd need to be alone, alone once more, I'm not my own. Betrayal's close as never before in my words, threat in unspoken tongues, disguised, unfold. If you come here, you just won't forget and things will never be the same, logic, train, speed, unleashed, and soul, and soul. Am I making sense to you? The sense of madness hood, head on the glass, eyes closed so hard, and rhythm scares the doubts away. Just like a song, forbidden lullaby, a soldier gazing the home sky above. Am I so bold? Am I so bold? Am I so wrong? To be in pain, so much alone. I'm not alone, and not so bold, just crazed mistake, a will unseen, that drives itself, that knows no fear, that can't be stopped, only by death itself not by herself. I'm not so wrong. I'm not alone. I'm just too proud, too selfish to see what can't be told. Leave me alone or feel yourself like my own. Know your place. Know your own.