IRC-Galleria

"I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new"
-Death Cap For Cutie

I remember.... Still. I used to love him. But now I don`t.

Tomorrow is beyond today,
Today is part of the past,
The past is where it began.

Awaken,
For the future is but a glimpse
Of that which was today,
Brought into tomorrow.

Accept,
That today is but a moment
Escaped from the past,
A lesson learned!

Can we?
Will we?
Tomorrow is today.

I wear a coat of feelings and they are loud I've been having good days I
think we are the right age
to start our own peculiar
ways?

D'you wear a black armband
When they shot the man
Who said "Peace could last
forever"
And in my first memories
They shot Kennedy
I went numb when I learned
to see
So I never fell for
Vietnam
We got the wall of D.C. to
remind us all
That you can't trust
freedom
When it's not in your
hands
When everybody's fightin'
For their promised land
I don't need your Civil
War

Life is like poker,
you can play your best
but you got to know
when to fold your cards
and take a rest.

Spit in your face, cause you don't control me
And you can't make me think that you do.
The ground is laced with your ash
I'm sick of the smoke as I pass
I can't take it any longer
I feel my hatred growing stronger

Count the cans you throw away
Same drunk story everyday
Wake up sick and complain, yet tonight will be the same.
And you wonder why? Why we're sick of your kind!

And wonder how we live like we do
Well maybe we don't want to live like you
When did it all come to this
Passed out in a puddle of your own piss
You're drugged, you're drunk, you're flat out cold
Your lame ass partying is getting old.
Don't brag to me of drugs you've done!
Have you forgot how to have fun?
Save your breath spare me the story.
I won't give you any glory!

The Black-Eyed Bastards - State College

Perhaps we might have a chance of a possibility to have a maybe.

"It is not the world that is shattering; it is your illusion of the world."

I heard the sound of Taps one night,
When everything was still,
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend?

I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard,
At the bottom of the sea.
Of unmarked graves in Arlington,
No, freedom isn't free.