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Pink Floyd Ukraina Pink Floyd Ukraina
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Deep House Remix Deep House Remix
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Ram Ranch 7 Ram Ranch 7
Thurston Harris - Little Bitty Pretty One Thurston Harris - Little Bitty Pretty One
Fixicity - Mashup Fixicity - Mashup
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Hellurei! Hellurei!
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Ääntelijä kuulee ekan kerran Kingiä Ääntelijä kuulee ekan kerran Kingiä
 231 näyttökertaa, 6 viestiä, 3.1 MB, 1 tiedosto
10.08.2020 19:09:24
[ + 1 | ]

System Of A Down - Lost In Hollywood


10.08.2020 20:31:53
#373213 [+-] Piilota Suosittele

>>373198
There are lone cemeteries.
tombs filled with soundless bones,
the heart passing through a tunnel
dark, dark, dark,
like a shipwreck we die inward,
like smothering in our hearts,
like slowly falling from our skin down to our soul.

There are corpses,
there are feet of sticky, cold gravestone,
there is death in the bones,
like a pure sound,
like a bark without a dog,
coming from certain bells, from certain tombs,
growing in the dampness like teardrops or raindrops.

I see alone, at times,
coffins with sails
weighing anchor with pale corpses, with dead-tressed women,
with bakers white as angels,
with pensive girls married to notaries,
coffins going up the vertical river of the dead,
the dark purple river,
upstream, with the sails swollen by the sound of death,
swollen by the silent sound of death.

To resonance comes death
like a shoe without a foot, like a suit without a man,
she comes to knock with a stoneless and fingerless ring,
she comes to shout without mouth, without tongue, without throat.
Yet her steps sound
and her dress sounds, silent, like a tree.

I know little, I am not well acquainted, I can scarcely see,
but I think that her song has the color of moist violets,
of violets accustomed to the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the gaze of death is green,
with the sharp dampness of a violet leaf
and its dark color of exasperated winter.

But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,
she licks the ground looking for corpses,
death is in the broom,
it is death’s tongue looking for dead bodies,
it is death’s needle looking for thread.

Death is on the cots:
in the slow mattresses, in the black blankets
she lives stretched out, and she suddenly blows:
she blows a dark sound that puffs out sheets,
and there are beds sailing to a port
where she is waiting, dressed as an admiral.

10.08.2020 23:09:58
#373299 [+-] Piilota Suosittele

>>373283

Guide
____

Flickering droplets of light travel slow and illuminate even the mightiest of pyramids.

Bareknuckle absurdities, agony in reverse.

Carcinogenic coupling with diversionary blame.



Grandiose things executed in surgical axis, howling arson bottled and ground to shimmering shards.



Plastic bribery; heretically noble and agonizingly groovy.

One bliss under rainfall.

Fiberglass bluebirds came a baffling blockade.



Already demolishment looms over the distilled fracture; a cognitive clinic for the nominally sane.



Bite that takes.

Just all it takes, for the shivering plunge.

Finite preciousness, a touch on the hips.

Draw breath as though you were in flames and drink from those lips.

_____________________________________________________



"I see you watching where I walk
Through the moonlit jasmine field
Listen closely as I talk
About the stars and their lovers past..."

[ 6 viestiä | ]