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"harmonise" poems
This is how it goes your hands will be proxy for mine my hands will be proxy for yours your fingers my fingers and my fingers yours what I describe, you enact told in detail so exact Just to begin I squeeze your ******* knead and pinch tweak a ****** give it a tug Stroke your tummy work over your thighs move up the inner where skin is smooth circle around, moving in till soft contours are caressed through pants that burn to be removed that pain you to wear and I see in my mind as you describe the spreading, darkening patch that fills the gusset Now they're pulled down removed quickly, completely and you are revealed spread, opened, shameless Gentle fingertips tease dance in circles, barely touching yet the fire within grows back and forth, round and round dance the fingertips as both reciprocate with growing pace and firmer touch I hear you gasp down the line and your breathing quickens as you hear mine as your excitement fuels mine as mine fuels yours in our feedback loop of lust And I tell you how my fingertip would give way to tonguetip if I could that I can taste you in my imagination fragrant, salty sweetness with musky undertones the tip of my tongue now circling then flicking back and forth beating out the rhythm that you best harmonise with bringing forth your moans Then darting down, back between wet, glistening folds exploring each ridge and valley working remorselessly Breathing faster now with animal grunts and moans directions of pleasure gasped breathless down the phone As fingers again take the lead find the opening slip readily within probe, explore, **** find that place on your front wall yes, just that spot that's a little rougher and feels sooo goood Add a second finger working and ******* licking and rubbing moaning and gasping barely intelligible now ...yess...more...yess...ohhh are all that have meaning Finger three joins one and two then the pressure builds demanding release and shaking and thrusting grows to shuddering and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose ******* faster furiously till we both explode hearing each other's voicing of our ecstasy in language intelligible only in this one context Brains and voices return as we bask in the afterglow and what passes between us then in those moments is the deepest intimacy of all Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
Phone ***
This is how it goes your hands will be proxy for mine my hands will be proxy for yours your fingers my fingers and my fingers yours what I describe, you enact told in detail so exact Just to begin I squeeze your ******* knead and pinch tweak a ****** give it a tug Stroke your tummy work over your thighs move up the inner where skin is smooth circle around, moving in till soft contours are caressed through pants that burn to be removed that pain you to wear and I see in my mind as you describe the spreading, darkening patch that fills the gusset Now they're pulled down removed quickly, completely and you are revealed spread, opened, shameless Gentle fingertips tease dance in circles, barely touching yet the fire within grows back and forth, round and round dance the fingertips as both reciprocate with growing pace and firmer touch I hear you gasp down the line and your breathing quickens as you hear mine as your excitement fuels mine as mine fuels yours in our feedback loop of lust And I tell you how my fingertip would give way to tonguetip if I could that I can taste you in my imagination fragrant, salty sweetness with musky undertones the tip of my tongue now circling then flicking back and forth beating out the rhythm that you best harmonise with bringing forth your moans Then darting down, back between wet, glistening folds exploring each ridge and valley working remorselessly Breathing faster now with animal grunts and moans directions of pleasure gasped breathless down the phone As fingers again take the lead find the opening slip readily within probe, explore, **** find that place on your front wall yes, just that spot that's a little rougher and feels sooo goood Add a second finger working and ******* licking and rubbing moaning and gasping barely intelligible now ...yess...more...yess...ohhh are all that have meaning Finger three joins one and two then the pressure builds demanding release and shaking and thrusting grows to shuddering and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose ******* faster furiously till we both explode hearing each other's voicing of our ecstasy in language intelligible only in this one context Brains and voices return as we bask in the afterglow and what passes between us then in those moments is the deepest intimacy of all Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
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98
With a heavy sigh, I go to bed at night, laying down to finally rest, Just to awake in my personal heaven, a realm of sweetness and bliss, Flowers of all kinds, trees with angel trumpets bound to golden chain, As the lilies are touched by a soft breeze, giving off their nice scent, I spirit away to purely engage and sympathize with other but pure fury or the sadness which has been sealed within my heart since then, Snowdrops and buttercups form a way to a single jasmine near a river of the purest water, which is alike a shining star, majesticly sparkling, The sky is starlit, each in their orbit whilst the golden light of the sun still reaches through, warming my cold skin comfortingly, delicately, Taking a seat I glance at what the table has presented before my eyes, Sweets, with sour yet aromatised orange juice anda large cheesecake, Then, suddenly, a single seagull draws near, weeping for affection, Together with bunnies and bumblebees buzzing around the flowers, Even now all the hummingbirds harmonise in a soft orchestra, And no frightened creature cries, they draw together in happiness, Yet I feel the absence of something which I hold very dear to me, Because you my dear lover, remain as my sweetest dream ~ Umi
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Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
A Dreamworld
Yesterday’s thoughts like white-water crashing These are fainter today, like a babbling brook Not quite abated but more still. Allowing thought and deed to harmonise, Even for an hour, I’ll take it. The image of my loved ones etched, My child, now a woman, forefront always The absolute best of us personified Love is the unbreakable bond between us Come feel, hear the quiet and smile with me.
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Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
Respite
“See herself..?” ‘Who..?’ “Herself.. there” ‘An’ about her?’ “..Cheating on himself..” ‘Sure she.. that one..’ “Fur coat.. no knickers..” They scuttle out daily wagging their vicious tales, Through dullness that dampens their every afternoon, Ignored by their own; an’ threadbare reflection, ******* each spun yarn an’ sheet out to dry, Stained with every listless memory an’ lonely evening, Gossip-hungry, they covet the community swill, Chomping through the random, unopposed untruths, ‘..husband slayer, heartless siren.. tis’ a mortal sin..’ They make no bones of any acquaintance of herself, With monstrous-eyed chronicles of salacious green, Such falsehood is kind to the envious an’ bias ears, Which tolerate any brazen line to a choir of lewd hymns, They harmonise each lustful lie; the prime accuser, Conducts a murky symphony of ***** laundry aired live, The jury silent, mocking whispered an’ ears into the wind, As the accused sullen-faced an’ solitary suddenly appears. Herself stands idly ignorant to the satirical sniggers, The trial by jealously ends, they turn two faces an’ leave, No fur, no knickers, no time to wish away the pain, Curtains drawn, truth quartered - the washing hung
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 11:16 AM UTC
To the Gallows with your Washing (For Mrs. Cullen and Mrs. McBride)
I've been lost in time these last few months - with clocks that won't tock and days that won't stop. And I was happy. Or maybe a little too comfortable. It's all the same - because the sun won't always shine and you can't stop the rain. But time will always find you and I'm here now. So where are you? Are you hiding too? Running from the monotonous chime - the one that dictates your waking and your slumber - your not so silent slumber. Trapped within the walls of time, is this living? Or is this death? It doesn't matter, the trees will still grow either way. And I'm here now - I wear bells now - to throw that monotonous chime out of time. So where are you? Do you wear bells too? I don't weep - no, I don't cry. Because tears don't harmonise with the monotonous chime.
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Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 6:51 PM UTC
A Monotonous Chime
Play your sad guitar a while that I may sing for thee of words that sit within my heart and technicolour dreams. Play a tune of broken wings now healed by tender hands brought to flight by friendship strong and moons in distant lands. Harmonise with me this night let music be our guide, you see my soul in different light, through darkness, where I hide. Then I'll lift up my song to thee the sweetest ever heard and raise my voice in thanks once more to friendship, love and words.
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
Duet.
'Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.' Though one runner may stumble, two can steady themselves. A team of three athletes is not easily overtaken. Though a single note may fade, two can harmonise in concert. A song of three chords is not quickly forgotten. Though a regent may lose his way, two can guide one another. A caravan of three kings is not easily distracted. Though a child may feel alone, two will laugh with mischief. A gang of three children is not quickly bored. Though one musketeer may fall, two can stand together. A band of three inseparables is not easily defeated. Though one disciple may tire, two can support one another. A prayer triplet is not quickly discouraged.
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 6:17 AM UTC
Three strands
Notre ami, le Mouflon Parfois ses cornes tire-bouchon e font ressembler le mâle à un faune farceur, Peu haut sur pattes mais véloce, le Mouflon se révèle un remarquable Athlète bondissant de rochers en rochers, Escaladant les rocs avec effronterie, il se rend parfois en été ou lorsque la nourriture se fait rare, au cœur des clairières et dans le creux des vals Pour goûter avec gourmandise ces mets de choix que sont pour lui les baies, glands, faînes, châtaignes et surtout les mannes du frêne à fleurs, Le Mouflon est, avant tout animal des cimes et des à-pics ; il est aimant de tous les lieux inaccessibles sans le secours de jumelles ou de téléobjectifs. Pour Mouflons et Mouflonnes, la saison de l’amour est l’automne ce qui révèle un goût de seigneur, Car la vêture des clairières est alors rougeoyante de beauté, à l’instar de tapis persans, Le Mouflon ne serait-il pas animal sauvage certes mais romantique car il se plait à admirer l’encolure des Mouflonnes, qui s’harmonise si bien avec les couleurs automnales ; Mais pour les Mouflons, le plaisir d’amour doit rester subtil et ne pas verser dans ces luttes meurtrières : l’ami Mouflon est un épicurien qui donne leçon de sagesse à tous les jaloux. Le Mouflon fut longtemps, le maître des Montagnes et du maquis Corse qu'il ne partageait qu'avec l’aigle royal, les sangliers les plus hardis et quelques bandits ou patriotes traqués, Mais trop chassé par certains Hommes, dépourvus de sagesse et à la gâchette trop faciles, il faillit disparaître de son île emblématique. Aujourd'hui il revient de l'île sœur, la Sardaigne, mais reste encore plus caché dans quelques massifs impénétrables comme le «Monte Cinto» et les «aiguilles de Bavella». C’est ainsi que la Corse retrouve l'un de ses plus beaux animaux dont le nom de ses enfants, "I Muvrini", a fait le tour des scènes du Monde pour magnifier son emblème et sa terre nourricière, la Corse. Paul Arrighi
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Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
Notre ami, le Mouflon (A Muvra)
Notre ami, le Mouflon Parfois ses cornes tire-bouchon e font ressembler le mâle à un faune farceur, Peu haut sur pattes mais véloce, le Mouflon se révèle un remarquable Athlète bondissant de rochers en rochers, Escaladant les rocs avec effronterie, il se rend parfois en été ou lorsque la nourriture se fait rare, au cœur des clairières et dans le creux des vals Pour goûter avec gourmandise ces mets de choix que sont pour lui les baies, glands, faînes, châtaignes et surtout les mannes du frêne à fleurs, Le Mouflon est, avant tout animal des cimes et des à-pics ; il est aimant de tous les lieux inaccessibles sans le secours de jumelles ou de téléobjectifs. Pour Mouflons et Mouflonnes, la saison de l’amour est l’automne ce qui révèle un goût de seigneur, Car la vêture des clairières est alors rougeoyante de beauté, à l’instar de tapis persans, Le Mouflon ne serait-il pas animal sauvage certes mais romantique car il se plait à admirer l’encolure des Mouflonnes, qui s’harmonise si bien avec les couleurs automnales ; Mais pour les Mouflons, le plaisir d’amour doit rester subtil et ne pas verser dans ces luttes meurtrières : l’ami Mouflon est un épicurien qui donne leçon de sagesse à tous les jaloux. Le Mouflon fut longtemps, le maître des Montagnes et du maquis Corse qu'il ne partageait qu'avec l’aigle royal, les sangliers les plus hardis et quelques bandits ou patriotes traqués, Mais trop chassé par certains Hommes, dépourvus de sagesse et à la gâchette trop faciles, il faillit disparaître de son île emblématique. Aujourd'hui il revient de l'île sœur, la Sardaigne, mais reste encore plus caché dans quelques massifs impénétrables comme le «Monte Cinto» et les «aiguilles de Bavella». C’est ainsi que la Corse retrouve l'un de ses plus beaux animaux dont le nom de ses enfants, "I Muvrini", a fait le tour des scènes du Monde pour magnifier son emblème et sa terre nourricière, la Corse. Paul Arrighi
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15
Autumnal joy floats on the wind: it blows A woodwind section through the buzzing leaves, And gently rattles red arpeggios That harmonise with mournful semibreves Of ageing branches creaking in the breeze. The forest spirits collectively moan. Without the crunch of thund’rous symphonies The rain can ****** on a xylophone: The surface of a hidden woodland pond Where all the stepping stones are so arranged As keys of limestone next to keys of slate. And all around the silence is estranged And till the snow of winter has to wait. We wave our sticks at where the air has thinned And call ourselves composers of the wind.
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Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC
Autumnal Sonata
I live through music I am the rhythm I am the beat I am my heart-beat I am the vibration The sound that moves your soul The tones that colour the sky The tempo that guides the sun The moon and the stars Are in tune with me The wind and the rain Harmonise with me The earth Resonates with me Come by my side and join Me in my symphony For without music Life is nothing to me
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Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 9:27 AM UTC
I live through music
revolutions are coming for the bored children, of course, just sit tight. soon the days will no longer coalesce together like caterpillar chrysalis clinging onto branches; wherever situations harmonise we’ll make gentle gestures, moving to and fro until we declare “this is the medieval economy, we belong with the hordes of ants.” But then again sometimes I find myself in the dark in schoolyards at night on the lawn grass gazing up at towers of concrete rain I feel the apprehension falling from the balconies, and I swallow the anxious murmurings of productivity, diligence and attention, digest their nutrients and spit them on cocoons in metamorphosis. Though, I hope the spit does not spoil the butterfly. I mean, I would not be surprised if I caught a tummy bug and it killed the whole world. still, rhetorical coincidences ceaselessly resort into syllogisms, essays babble incoherent thoughts, cranes construct rows of identical houses, times moves forward and backward to save light, it consumes time in my mind. oh revolving prisms, there will come a tiny time, emerging, bit by bit, in unison; there will be gentler things to caress the subtle skins of existence, one by one, all at once, momentarily again and again.
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Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 3:34 AM UTC
juxtapositions, harmony, emergence
these keys have your name written all over them I can feel the energy coming out of them whenever I play our favourite song sweet serenades pouring out of my heart as I voice my vibrations through my art you’re a part of me, my muse and art speaks through you you become alive in my stripped sessions where love is reached and lively these vibrations are for eternity this love that we have is forever ‘cause my spirit keeps it alive we uplift the universe with our mystic energy harmonise the souls with our pure nature my eyes never wander because you make up my retina and my ears never slumber because you silence mediocre.
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
sweet serenade
Anticipation spans the season Gone so fast with just a trace You leave no rhyme nor reason Off you fly with cold malice. Even the driest patch of grass Restores its former chloroplasts Bright green trees begin to fade Your legacy is leaving. Splash, the constant drumming Sets the tempo and transition Swap the pastels for pantones Go indoors and reposition. Not one to miss a queue This rain was built to last The whipping winds harmonise Like blowing over hollow glass. The interval is all but over The show yet to be recast Fly in the white cliffs above The Dover shore blends at last. The tapping of rain becomes a thud As the treetop leaves lose their colour Gales whip up - down empty streets The people crowd indoors in horror. Fearsome is the cold and wet Now that joy and happiness has passed Regale stories of the Summer And hope that winter retreats as fast.
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Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 9:53 AM UTC
Before It Ever Began
Lying in the blues darkness, Midnight hugging us, Your soft touches, Loving me tenderly, Loving me sweet, Loving me true. I can hear your heart drumming, My spine recording its vibrations Of this melodic beating- I love you. I love you. I love you. Our breaths harmonise, Enchants us into a dream, Like lavender rhymes to concious minds- I am not alone. I am not alone. I am not alone. A midnight orchestra, Playing a bed of graceful tunes, Rose coloured harps play us a story Of silent passion. Of peaceful lust. Quiet love be'twixt the sheets. They sing, They play, They beat, We harmonise together- I love you. You are not alone lying in the blues darkness.
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Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 2:17 PM UTC
A Midnight Melody
The love song I lost The notes erased by cold words The heart beats I couldn't control The harmony that couldn't harmonise The warmth that hit a pause The keys that were never heard The emotions I never pushed play for And the simple words I can never say
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
Lost Love
It seems I've been travelling around Through the word of mouth Look at the way they speculate Whether I'm gay or straight Some say that I am autistic Used to be so optimistic That we could unite and harmonise But it seems we are too busy Pointing out each other's flaws And fighting needless wars When did I become The headline of everyone's day? Why do I seem to be the topic In the stories, they spread It seems I'm the centre focus Once again I'm starting to question Will this ever end? What will they think of next? What do I think of Bec and her new boyfriend? It seems like everybody's Watching every step I take And hanging off of every word I say And maybe I'm a little crazy But could you really blame me? They think I'm an attention seeker baby When did I become The headline of everyone's day? Why do I seem to be the topic In the stories, they spread It seems I'm the centre focus Once again I'm starting to question Will this ever end? It seems to me That I seem to be The talk of the town And all the rumours Are circulating around Everyone's questioning me And my sexuality Who I'm with, what I am What I feel, what he writes, Is it real? When did I become The headline of everyone's day? Why do I seem to be the topic In the stories, they spread It seems I'm the centre focus Once again I'm starting to question Will this ever end? ©2018 Written By Benji James
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 4:30 AM UTC
Headline
We died of old age at age seventeen, With a thousand years worth of dust in our eyes, If am an oak tree, you will always be evergreen. Submerged in the deep in our submarine, Without fear of a wreck or a capsize, We died of old age at age seventeen. You look the same as when we met by the marine, You kept your fear of spiders and butterflies, If am an oak tree, you will always be evergreen. You have always cut straight to the point like a guillotine, You would indulge in love songs as I tried to harmonise, If am an oak tree, you will always be evergreen. Stretch out those arms and let me crawl between, And improvise a half-dozen lullabies that will paralyze. We died of old age at age seventeen. If am an oak tree, you will always be evergreen. -Jamie F. Nugent
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC
We Died of Old Age
play me love's music harmonise our hearts' tempo practice every day
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May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
loveheart (senryu)
Your sweet golden notes penetrate my soul. They strike life's tone-deaf bowl of plaintive tunes, and replay inaudible sounds by injecting a warm dose of chords as an amorous goal. Let who will condemn, we sing life our way. Yet bittersweet, but one day this chorus of repeated yearning will vocalise loudly and relay unfinished music for love to play. When fleshed, ardent desire will be sated. Destiny's fire will have abated off-beat keys, complete and bonded forever, we will harmonise then, created the better for having waited.
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Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 5:55 AM UTC
Unfinished Music
Listen, everyone who out in crowd, the people who heard me sing so loud, playing it out loud, my life is one with no shroud... We start off without our cheques, but like I love to say "that's just life I reckon"!, Now I'm on a whole other spectrum, they don't see it coming, coming through looking like the A team, so don't waste your life, choose what you wanna be, and guess that happens when you go and handle business yeah, I've switched from style to style until I have no style left, work for this to work out, love with no theft, chasing the feelings until there's nothing left, ParCellio's my name, it's how I'm to be addressed, spend my days, my ways are blessed, and I'll move to the west so my words can't be suppressed and I'll float with the waves, I'm so immunosuppressive... This is how I'll spend my days... Ride my thoughts like these waves... Life onto the west coast ways... And now seen it all... Before I hit my grave... A paradise, to be realised, and be with my kind, up all night to see the sunrise, lead a life of surprise, days gone by with no lies, everyone who lives put hands to the sky, everybody just go with the flow, no need to analyse, you know my ego could do with a downsize, you know I'm **** at singing but ya'll know I can harmonise, had a pretty ****** life but there's no need to sympathise, put my soul into this music it's something I prioritise... This is how I'll spend my days... Ride my thoughts like these waves... Life onto the west coast ways... And now seen it all... Before I hit my grave.. Our waves, our breathing, our time, our cheating, this life, my dreaming, our lies, your thieving, now just imagine you caught your wife cheating, and stop thinking, look after that feeling, all you gotta do is trust me, you knew her actions were misleading, but you can't stop breathing, these thoughts are appeasing, one to one I'm believing, sleeping for long you almost left your dreams, these are the lessons I'm teaching, these are the hymns I'm preaching, the followers I'm feeding, this music keeps my heart beating, and my body keep bleeding, giving my life meaning, it's the stars receiving, and it's all I want, help me...
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Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
Waves
Listen, everyone who out in crowd, the people who heard me sing so loud, playing it out loud, my life is one with no shroud... We start off without our cheques, but like I love to say "that's just life I reckon"!, Now I'm on a whole other spectrum, they don't see it coming, coming through looking like the A team, so don't waste your life, choose what you wanna be, and guess that happens when you go and handle business yeah, I've switched from style to style until I have no style left, work for this to work out, love with no theft, chasing the feelings until there's nothing left, ParCellio's my name, it's how I'm to be addressed, spend my days, my ways are blessed, and I'll move to the west so my words can't be suppressed and I'll float with the waves, I'm so immunosuppressive... This is how I'll spend my days... Ride my thoughts like these waves... Life onto the west coast ways... And now seen it all... Before I hit my grave... A paradise, to be realised, and be with my kind, up all night to see the sunrise, lead a life of surprise, days gone by with no lies, everyone who lives put hands to the sky, everybody just go with the flow, no need to analyse, you know my ego could do with a downsize, you know I'm **** at singing but ya'll know I can harmonise, had a pretty ****** life but there's no need to sympathise, put my soul into this music it's something I prioritise... This is how I'll spend my days... Ride my thoughts like these waves... Life onto the west coast ways... And now seen it all... Before I hit my grave.. Our waves, our breathing, our time, our cheating, this life, my dreaming, our lies, your thieving, now just imagine you caught your wife cheating, and stop thinking, look after that feeling, all you gotta do is trust me, you knew her actions were misleading, but you can't stop breathing, these thoughts are appeasing, one to one I'm believing, sleeping for long you almost left your dreams, these are the lessons I'm teaching, these are the hymns I'm preaching, the followers I'm feeding, this music keeps my heart beating, and my body keep bleeding, giving my life meaning, it's the stars receiving, and it's all I want, help me...
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14
This field feels the rhythm The ground beneath me beats And the breeze gently hums To harmonise a choir who bring back the love In an echo that electrifies the sole Never has a day started better Than with ****** Mary in generous glugs To wash away the lingering ache of the devilish night before and I find myself in my element celebrating the knight of nowhere conquest reign to the wobbly log From my horizontal viewpoint I’m soaking up the suns shining rays Whilst overlooking jesters fight sock wars with small children But my skin wont suffer for these friendly strangers Have lubed me up with their compassionate oil No-ones really a stranger in this Small World, so it seems Not if the tug-of-war has anything to do with it The eclectic collection of eccentric events Is rounded off delightfully when we sit together in a burning sauna to outlet amongst ourselves the toxins absorbed as an energetic additive to the atmosphere At this festival everyone is your friend and there’s no shame in ****** here In close proximity we endure the heat Until we are saturated in sweat and then plunge ourselves one-by-one into a bath shared with mischievous children making weapons of the ice cold jets Feeling fresh faced and cleaner than before I finalise the feeling of freedom as a **** pull-along For a child’s’ home-made truck The juveniles journey accelerates as my liberation overwhelms me I’m fulfilling an accomplishment I never dreamt I’d meet But the succeeding element of this festive environment that I most enjoy Is the fact that here none of this is odd
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 5:54 AM UTC
Small World 2013
This field feels the rhythm The ground beneath me beats And the breeze gently hums To harmonise a choir who bring back the love In an echo that electrifies the sole Never has a day started better Than with ****** Mary in generous glugs To wash away the lingering ache of the devilish night before and I find myself in my element celebrating the knight of nowhere conquest reign to the wobbly log From my horizontal viewpoint I’m soaking up the suns shining rays Whilst overlooking jesters fight sock wars with small children But my skin wont suffer for these friendly strangers Have lubed me up with their compassionate oil No-ones really a stranger in this Small World, so it seems Not if the tug-of-war has anything to do with it The eclectic collection of eccentric events Is rounded off delightfully when we sit together in a burning sauna to outlet amongst ourselves the toxins absorbed as an energetic additive to the atmosphere At this festival everyone is your friend and there’s no shame in ****** here In close proximity we endure the heat Until we are saturated in sweat and then plunge ourselves one-by-one into a bath shared with mischievous children making weapons of the ice cold jets Feeling fresh faced and cleaner than before I finalise the feeling of freedom as a **** pull-along For a child’s’ home-made truck The juveniles journey accelerates as my liberation overwhelms me I’m fulfilling an accomplishment I never dreamt I’d meet But the succeeding element of this festive environment that I most enjoy Is the fact that here none of this is odd
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38
Intro 0.05 Mmmh 0.17 Oh, oh 0.27 Yeah, yeah yeah 1.12 Verse 1 Created to reciprocate, returning the flow Togetherness we correlate, surrender control There's greatness to realise and yes we truly harmonise No needless complication, journey towards the sky 1.49 Hook Yeah, oh yeah, towards the sky 2.03 Chorus Here we are in paradise, oh Looking at your angel eyes, yeah So let there be no separation The embracing of true elation, yeah Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
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Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
Spaceship