Profound statements bore me to death:
The Earth is round, Life is but a moment
To figure out if we do progress
From all the knowledge that will come from learning
Of all the things that come to us in droves
From sources of the other's understanding...
But who am I?... A shadow in groves?
Of birches and of oaks... It's never ending...
The questions stay with us, they never end,
It's just that we will grow very tired
And stop the search... In any given land
We just give up...
But fire's still a fire,
And search still goes on ...
But we are stuck...
With our lives we go as if wired,
Forgetting what we wanted to attack
And to resolve... Continuos quagmire
Of lives that could have been,
And would have been...
Performed without us, as if we left
As if we never even came to being...
Burn, fire, burn...
Our lives were stolen. Theft
Was done by ourselves. And not a feeling,
And not a trace is left
After awhile. . .
We blame the world,
The people, cultures, countries,
And crawl to bed...
Oh, Lord,
Is it just me?
It could be anybody,
One, two, three...
My life could be performed without me,
The other could be going through motions,
The other could forget -- he was once free,
Free from the burdens, expectations, somber notions...
The other could have gone to work and play,
The other could be bought into the system,
Rage, fear, rage...
Another day
Will pass into oblivion. But listen...
To your heartbeat. To whisper in your soul.
There was once a very special call.
There were questions. Where have they gone?...
Do not forget -- you are the only one,
That is still here... Do not give up so fast.
NOW IS THE TIME. The future is the past.
Profound statements bore me to death.