Moonlight falls on the gravestone like death the gravestone is mine... a crow caws so close to my ear, i taste a bitter taste and it smells like death i see nothing but utter stillness i can see my fear run through the yard i see the ghost of curt cobain run through the yard and i chase after him there is a taste of sweet dew on my tongue in my bedroom there are posters on the wall i read a note over and over again and the words 'sup loser' haunt me... the giants peer over the midgets intimidating he loves everything about me, why does he had me so? the dull pencil of life tried to write on the soul and failed. i am as happy as a dull face in the dark my eyes go from ice blue to pitch black in the blink of an eye Lydia is dead in her mind. in the next months i'll walk through in a daze the hazy fog echoes as she lives for death she dies everyday and lives for tomorow elle amour mort mais elles deteste vie her pen writes on the pages of her heart a sweet song she will end the wait of life with the death of spirits.
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Memory is a net: one that finds it full of fish when he takes it from the brook, but a dozen miles of water have run through it without sticking.
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I've discovered that numerous peak performers use the skill of mental rehearsal of visualization. They mentally run through important events before they happen.
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If real is characterized by what you see and what you can feel, then 'real' is only electromagnetic impulses which run through you brain
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Slow Dance
Have you ever watched kids On a merry-go-round? Or listened to the rain Slapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight? Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down. Don't dance so fast. Time is short. The music won't last.
Do you run through each day On the fly? When you ask, 'How are you?' Do you hear the reply? When the day is done Do you lie in your bed With the next hundred chores Running through your head?
You'd better slow down Don't dance so fast. Time is short. The music won't last.
Ever told your child, 'We'll do it tomorrow' And in your haste, Not see his sorrow? Ever lost touch, Let a good friendship die Cause you never had time To call and say,'Hi?'
You'd better slow down. Don't dance so fast. Time is short. The music won't last.
When you run so fast to get somewhere, You miss half the fun of getting there. When you worry and hurry through your day, It is like an unopened gift... Thrown away. Life is not a race. Do take it slower. Hear the music, Before the song is over.
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Come what come may, Time and the hour run through the roughest day.
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Jerome is in a class of his own. He's much bigger than anybody else, and for him to have that speed and to be able to sidestep people, and then run through people, that puts him in a different class.
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Time and the hour run through the roughest day.
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A million things run through my mind, you ain't gotta be in jail to be doing time.
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