Timers
Searchin down through the mellow yellow sixties, the seventies, the forties and fifties. Living truly in the twenties and by candlelight before all that; is this what folk wanted? Is this it?
Nah! There was a rotten turn there in 1982, or was it '84? It would be ironic if a real shift happened, a kind of departing of the spirit of truth and fellowship, in that particular year.
There was a rotten turn, and it's taken this long to manifest itself in an entire generation of neds and empty souls in suits firing missiles.
I see no honour in the news.
No, honour does not seem so prevelent now. A forgotten quality. I raise a glass to the good hearts left and I'm asking you, as a broken, deflated soul, to return and bring us into the theatrical world of decency.
What a pig head! What a kid! Don't you understand nuffin?! Man! You are so caught up in your own vision, your tiny personal picture, that you haven't seen that not much has changed in a million years. Men have always been this way. Neds have been here since the beginning. I mean, the neds and the suits probably have a bigger right and a deeper heart than you in your plastic ego philosophy could ever hope for? Go away! Leave us alone.
I'm not happy, so I'll change the situation. It's that simple, it's really marvellous to be free.
Listen, so long as there are blank pages, or corners of pages which are waiting for you, so long as there are pens or crayons or bits of charcoal, then there is your own salvation, just in putting your truth outside your own heart. Opening windows and letting the wind blow through, there is the route away from bad feeling.
Ain't it great?
Nah! There was a rotten turn there in 1982, or was it '84? It would be ironic if a real shift happened, a kind of departing of the spirit of truth and fellowship, in that particular year.
There was a rotten turn, and it's taken this long to manifest itself in an entire generation of neds and empty souls in suits firing missiles.
I see no honour in the news.
No, honour does not seem so prevelent now. A forgotten quality. I raise a glass to the good hearts left and I'm asking you, as a broken, deflated soul, to return and bring us into the theatrical world of decency.
What a pig head! What a kid! Don't you understand nuffin?! Man! You are so caught up in your own vision, your tiny personal picture, that you haven't seen that not much has changed in a million years. Men have always been this way. Neds have been here since the beginning. I mean, the neds and the suits probably have a bigger right and a deeper heart than you in your plastic ego philosophy could ever hope for? Go away! Leave us alone.
I'm not happy, so I'll change the situation. It's that simple, it's really marvellous to be free.
Listen, so long as there are blank pages, or corners of pages which are waiting for you, so long as there are pens or crayons or bits of charcoal, then there is your own salvation, just in putting your truth outside your own heart. Opening windows and letting the wind blow through, there is the route away from bad feeling.
Ain't it great?
posted by yumen at
8:01 pm
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