Bending the lines
Moving the lines
Breaking the lines
Soaking the lines
I don't want to write a song about our mutual bad experience and disappointment.
It would be way too easy and I feel like everyone’s been expecting it including myself.
I don’t intend to write for -------- any longer because I took it and nailed it according to my own standards.
And I don’t give a fuck about ---niversal and distrust the -------- cuts of the Freudian take-over on modern Western societies.
I don’t hate hatchets.
Like Pearson’s Everything we miss. “Silently, with endless patience, some things wait and long to be found”.
You were found but now you’re blind. You could see, but you were lost then.
You couldn’t trust them. ‘Them’ being the rest of the world organized against you in a system.
There is no such thing as a system. But I can’t begin to prove it without being systematic.
I was hoping, and still am, that I am not part of one.
I belong to the category of those who try not to belong to a category. And fail. But die trying.
And I’m trying hard not to write about ----- and me. We’re not heavy-headed minds. But.
You can’t fire me because I quit. I won’t be hit, I give up on guilt.
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