The problems between us seem to be ever there; all seems to be up in the air. Life, as they say, is very short, and so is time, especially when there seems to be no reason or rhyme. The solutions to your problems may be one, few or many; perhaps for your thoughts, I will give you a penny.
Let's bring all that is not life to an end; to hell with death, my friend.
Life is very short, and there's no time; for fussing and fighting, my friend. I have always thought that its a crime, so I will ask you once again:
Can we have it our way, and can that way be one? So that, in the end, we can live in days of a thousand healing suns. Let us dance across the universe through days never ending and nights never coming, to a tune we ourselves have written that will leave the angels humming! Let the words of the song be the cry of love, a tune that is holy, where push doesn't come to shove. A song of peace and a song of joy, with a the sound of a thousand guitars a-sounding, we will be in service to the gods be employed.
I don't mean to hurt you, please believe me, my dear friend. I just merely lost my way. Perhaps I lost sight of my goal. Please forgive me, my dear friend, before I'm bought and sold.
To quote the bard, Nothing is either good or bad; thinking makes it so. I believe I can say no more; I hope we don't end up sad.
©2008 Hypnus9 Publications; All Rights Reserved.
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