remembrance of lighter times past, or the proof that imagined pain inherently does not have to linger on:
about to become larger than itself, like a bubble, it will burst.
started to practice the contemplation of letters and meaning -- again: nothing else seems to make real sense
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On the hills behind the Dead Sea
There is a wonder
You were my love from the Holy City
And you were gonna take me there
But I had a change of heart
Now, years later
That wonder has become a symbol
A promise of a world that is safe
Because it isn't real
It is its own dream
Like a destination without the journey
Or like a prize without the fight
It seems that this red rose rock
That I only know from pictures
Has been carved out of pure love
That I only know from books
And it outlives us
There in the valley
Being its own timeless dream
Red and rose
Sometimes the truth is mild and simple
Not a flood or even a big wave, just a ripple
So you stir it up
Cause for some reason
You want it to wash over you
Cause the truth is
The memory of you fades
And the wonder, it's still there
Untouched, unseen
And stark as ever
vagy
"A halálos ágyon csak akkor pihensz nyugodtan, ha mindennap, minden öntudatoddal, az igazságot szolgáltad. Néha nagyon egyszerű és kicsinyes az igazság. De te ne válogass. Ennyi az élet értéke."
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