|
 Now playing on dirty.radio: Loading...
|
|
#23
04-28-2010, 11:31 AM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: and
dandelion (English) - kutyatej (Hungarian)
kutya - dog tej - milk and finally the dance ...do you love me_eeee do you love me_eeee... keep your eyes on the bottle... håll - keep blicken - eyes alltid - always riktad - pointed på - on flaskorna - the bottles http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/i...3e02fe049b.jpg
__________________
a bit of life a kiss of love in a tiny circle - o |
|
#24
04-28-2010, 11:54 AM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: and
a whiskey flask whiskey, whiskey, whiskey, whiskey, whiskey, but now bourbon, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, sweet and savory bourbon from the Four Roses of our lives, delicious, refreshing, brown, and real
real realreelrealreelrealreelrealreelrealreelrealreelre alreelrealreelrealreelrealreelrealreel dogmatic sister and brother and child, where have we gone, where do we sit, why do we ask, ask flask |
|
#26
04-28-2010, 10:46 PM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: and
post.
__________________
Believe in Billy Records |
|
#27
04-29-2010, 09:02 AM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: and
...is there nothing there...
Some run on sunlight Some run on dark and dirt Saw them be frozen Till they could not hurt Shining light - the hope Through the thickest ice But light moves slowly what a nice surprise But don’t fear the heat Melting icy emotion Get ready to float Cos´ love is a big ocean And don’t fear the sea It has plenty of drive Oxygen is what you need So go deeper, learn to dive Don´t fear the visions Higher than Kilimanjaro The Erath is still spinning Like a perfect gyro Sick of it? Hey! Isn´t it nice all the the sugar all the spice Life is like walking on fire and ice Me? I´m just nothing with plenty of drive Now I´m playing dice OK, I´m not denying I have a minor vice Some run on sunlight Some run on dark and dirt Some run on nothing at all Something tells me to not judge them ´Cos some say God lives in us all
__________________
a bit of life a kiss of love in a tiny circle - o |
|
#30
04-30-2010, 09:58 AM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Re: and
yea(ay)
the smelly and old city strikes a breeze through the door, pulverizing my senses into this realm of hello. i comfort through breath and enjoyment of these smells, onto, and onto, learning what is not mine. what belongs to everyone. but what belongs not to the one who wants not. the un-justifiable. i don't believe, no more in anything so strongly, cept these words that fall into into oblivion (wish(tch)craft) i shudder not. i cry not. i make no mistake to damage the fragile. i learn to love. love love love, thee unlovable |
| Post Reply |
|
|
Linear Mode
