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Old 07-12-2008, 06:28 PM   #25 (permalink)
little_tippler
Leaning against the -Sun-
 
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Location: on the other side
I actually like these guys, but this song when I first heard it, really put me off:

Summer stretching on the grass
Summer dresses pass
In the shade of the willow tree
Creeps a crawling over me
Over me and over you
Stuck together with god's glue
It's gonna' get stickier, too
It's been a long, hot summer
Lets get undercover
Don't try to hard to think, don't think at all

I'm not the only one,
Staring at the sun.
Afraid of what you'd find
If you took a look inside
I'm not just deaf and dumb
Staring at the sun
Not the only one
Who's happy to go blind

There's an insect in your ear
If you scratch it won't disappear
It's gonna itch and burn and sting
You want to see what the scratching brings
Waves that leave me out of reach
Breaking on your back like a beach
Will we ever live in peace?

'Cause those that can't do
Often have to
And those that can't do
Often have to preach

To the ones
Staring at the sun
Afraid of what you'd find
If you took a look inside
Not just deaf and dumb
I'm staring at the sun
I'm not the only one
Who'd rather go blind

Intransigence is all around
Military still in town
Armour plated suits and ties
Daddy just won't say goodbye
Referee won't blow the whistle
God is good but will He listen
I'm nearly great
But there's something missing

I left it in the duty free area
But you never really belonged to me

You're not the only one
Staring at the sun
Afraid of what you'd find
You step back inside
Not sucking on my thumb
I'm staring at the sun
I'm not the only one
Who's happy to go blind

.
__________________
Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.


Fernando Pessoa, 1918
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