Sad thoughts forces my fingers to fever: Some day this weary winter will be gone. Finally the spring
will come, before cold claws of sadness extinguish shrinking flames. Do
you know: Bridges are broken? Heavy trucks brush aside grey dirty masses of snow. Again police has entered Paris Sorbonne Univerity like in the year 1968. Then I was 20 years old only, experiments with women and drugs started. The last solid connection bridges myself with opposite gender: Mimamai. Otherwise? Bridges are broken. Have you met the Buddha on your way? Have you killed this obstacle to free yourself? Have you met a friend on your way? Didn't she left you alone, to let you down in utterly helplessness? Didn't you know: Bridges are broken? Whom do you trust? Have you tested this trust? Who ever dares to test trust, will know: brigdes are broken! Any new nice theories here around, to pimp up my mind with priest-prostitutes politics? NDS - NaziDumpSociety? Any new Guru on stage to teach tender theories? Willing and able to realize here-now, there-then: BRIDGES ARE BROKEN! |
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