those boots were made for kicking
the world of physics has developed spacetime and quanta, strings and loops and lattices, potentials and dimensions and symmetries that seem drawn by the hand of God.
11 years of personal study, no sleep, and a mind as abstract as they come, and I still couldn't tell you why these hours seemed to pass so quickly.
maybe because i'm focused and thinking a little too much on thoughts that i really don't want thought. or, rather, am just tired of thinking.
think think think. did you know i've never been to a roller rink? or seen or felt or known a mink? or met or engaged or questioned a shrink? or smelled the missing link or used a well of ink? i never got that chance to wear something pink, or make use of the oh-so-extra special wink. la di dah, dippity zip boom bah...just more things down the sink.
i'm saving my dreams in a bottle and sending it out to sea. what will it mean, when it's sent back? will it be open, will it be fresh? will it be used or stuffed full again? i wonder what sort of bottle to use: glass or plastic or metal or stone. maybe leather. a satchel of dreams, thrown to the wind, opened by the nomads of the world. maybe it will entertain them for awhile. wouldn't that be something?
find me a preacher, please. a preacher, a preacher, an orator to boil the conscious. a preacher with a cantation that'll make your soul writhe and wiggle and flop all around, ready to squirm out of your body with the sickly sounds, 'thud' and 'flabpt' and 'whoolp.' then you'll watch it there on the ground, gyrating about with the power that only comes with hope or last chances. and it'll change, and straighten, and smooth itself out. it will calm down to a whisper of motion, transformed, and ask remittance to enter again your body. and then, the preacher all done, you accept this request and breathe a little more freely.
if you've ever seen a shard of bone, you've seen far more than you'd think. if you've ever stared at static, colored lights for an entire night, you've known far more than you'd have liked. but most and best and worst of all, if you've ever been held hostage by your own mind, you've fallen much harder than you thought.
let's see, something uplifting, something comforting. something something something. i once knew a girl. a sure-as-shooting kind of girl. with a voice that could make me smile after half a breath, so quick as to shake every rational facet of my mind and leave me reeling. with a look that could floor me in a second and hold me blind to everything else. with a touch careful enough to turn me into a damned dumb fool. with things like that in the world, how can you need uplifting?
haha, blast it all. bring me more lyrics.
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and,
she kissed me.
Like a fella once said,
"ain't that a kick in the head?"
My head keeps spinning,
I go to sleep and keep grinning,
If this is just the beginning,
My life's gonna be beau-ti-ful
I've got sunshine enough to spread,
It's like the fella said,
Tell me quick,
"Ain't love like a kick in the head?"
11 years of personal study, no sleep, and a mind as abstract as they come, and I still couldn't tell you why these hours seemed to pass so quickly.
maybe because i'm focused and thinking a little too much on thoughts that i really don't want thought. or, rather, am just tired of thinking.
think think think. did you know i've never been to a roller rink? or seen or felt or known a mink? or met or engaged or questioned a shrink? or smelled the missing link or used a well of ink? i never got that chance to wear something pink, or make use of the oh-so-extra special wink. la di dah, dippity zip boom bah...just more things down the sink.
i'm saving my dreams in a bottle and sending it out to sea. what will it mean, when it's sent back? will it be open, will it be fresh? will it be used or stuffed full again? i wonder what sort of bottle to use: glass or plastic or metal or stone. maybe leather. a satchel of dreams, thrown to the wind, opened by the nomads of the world. maybe it will entertain them for awhile. wouldn't that be something?
find me a preacher, please. a preacher, a preacher, an orator to boil the conscious. a preacher with a cantation that'll make your soul writhe and wiggle and flop all around, ready to squirm out of your body with the sickly sounds, 'thud' and 'flabpt' and 'whoolp.' then you'll watch it there on the ground, gyrating about with the power that only comes with hope or last chances. and it'll change, and straighten, and smooth itself out. it will calm down to a whisper of motion, transformed, and ask remittance to enter again your body. and then, the preacher all done, you accept this request and breathe a little more freely.
if you've ever seen a shard of bone, you've seen far more than you'd think. if you've ever stared at static, colored lights for an entire night, you've known far more than you'd have liked. but most and best and worst of all, if you've ever been held hostage by your own mind, you've fallen much harder than you thought.
let's see, something uplifting, something comforting. something something something. i once knew a girl. a sure-as-shooting kind of girl. with a voice that could make me smile after half a breath, so quick as to shake every rational facet of my mind and leave me reeling. with a look that could floor me in a second and hold me blind to everything else. with a touch careful enough to turn me into a damned dumb fool. with things like that in the world, how can you need uplifting?
haha, blast it all. bring me more lyrics.
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and,
she kissed me.
Like a fella once said,
"ain't that a kick in the head?"
My head keeps spinning,
I go to sleep and keep grinning,
If this is just the beginning,
My life's gonna be beau-ti-ful
I've got sunshine enough to spread,
It's like the fella said,
Tell me quick,
"Ain't love like a kick in the head?"

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