Friday, 7 October 2011

Where no needles can damage or nurse

I keep listening on this French motorway. Crying without tears. They got stole away by the close trees and the wide corn, they wipe my eyes as I keep moving. I feel old and I feel young. Seeking slanted comfort in a song about escape, about death.

"Through ages man's desires
To free his mind, to release his very soul
Has proved to all that live
That death itself is freedom for evermore."

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