Courtesy of blank intuition. This lattice is torn repeatedly frame by frame. by you. And within withering syncopation in time (totality) escaped: me.
译文: 完. 十四行诗.
This is the right time This is the right place Living underneath a gray cloud When nothing ever changes I couldn't be any less proud The heart of this
Courage and cowards move, heroes to ecstasy Welcomes of war and wounds, vigil and victory Structures of atoms dance, sugar towards the taster Prey to
We in our infancy, led down shining paths Shine, shine, shining paths, divine our disillusion Face our imperfection, I begin to wonder Onion peelings
Outside the boundaries where all the streets are empty In such a lonely moment we reach the same conclusion Chants of cathedral choirs, stations of
one Monopolise the holy ground, all that we hold as sacred No harvest moon shall rise, no valley homestead seen And now the cities never end, and
Around, around, young men and women move Through sun and steel our lives transforming To forge a link flow backwards to our source And forfeit self
All across the scenes the statues crumble We cherished the seconds, counted the days And people move with lines across their faces Embracing each other
The age of miracles, assent of man in strident tones Realms of fantastic have been forged by folly speed and steel Out of the cones stream forth, creation
Peace at the break of dawn, mist on the shore, Time is healing everything, time is standing still, A voice that is singing in my head, With the breeze
The days I wonder, the nights I ponder, and time is running out. I saw restrictions of mortal lifespan, and hurled the lance beyond. The stone that's
Across the sand under a crescent moon In celebration of our fears And rumors circulating in the street The candle burns, the world awaits We ask, is
Bleak are the hearts in summer, long wintertme We are god children running, immortal child Out on the chill horizon, shine morning stars Configurations
When there's storm clouds higher than heaven And there's angels defeating themselves And you can't get past half past eleven Without feeding the sharks
We are not the sons of God We are not His chosen people now We have crossed the path He trod We will feel the pain of His beginning Shadow fingers rise
We are not the sons of God We are not his chosen people now We have crossed the path he trod We will feel the pain of his beginning Shadow fingers rise
