sobota, 13 października 2012

13.10.12

Pięta nie znika. Pięta przytłacza. Pięta, pięta, pięta... niczego więcej w polu świadomości.


Wind the clock by Charles Bukowski

 

It’s just a slow day moving into a slow night
it doesn’t matter what you do
everything just stays the same.
the cats sleep it off, the dogs don’t bark,
it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night,
there’s nothing even dying,
it’s just more waiting through a slow day moving
into a slow night.
you don’t even hear the water running,
the walls just stand there
and the doors don’t open…

it’s just more waiting through a slow day moving
into a slow night
like tomorrow’s never going to come
and when it does
it’ll be the same damn thing

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