Card Flop

Best song from their favorite musician?

Bob Dylan is mine. Here are some of my words is dear to him, "Dylan's Blues Bob "- Well, the Lone Ranger and Tonto They are ridin 'to the line Fixin' Ev'rybody Ev'rybody disorders" Somebody musta tol concept mío''Em He was doing well, "Talkin 'World War III Blues" Some time ago a crazy dream came I dreamed I was walking in the Third World War went to the doctor the next day to see a little what words could say, he said it was a bad dream, I would not worry 'Bout It not, they were my own dreams and only in my head said, "Wait, doctor, a World War passed through my mind" He said, "Nurse, get your pad, this guy! He's crazy "I grabbed his arm, he said," Ouch "As I put in the psychiatric couch, said:" Tell Me " "Subterranean Homesick Blues" – do not need a weatherman to know which way the wind you stay ever young;)

I have a friend is mostly because of the pain. She wakes up, goes to work, and then all go home. Once cut one of my nightmares of paper. I thought it was beautiful, I put on a record sleeve. And I tried to say he had a sense of color and composition so magnificent. And he said: "Thank you, please but your flattery is truly not be me. Your eyes are poor. You are blind. You see, no beauty could have come from me. I'm a waste of breath, space, time. "I met a woman who was dignified and true. His love for her man was one of his many virtues. Until one day he discovered he had lied and decided the rest of his life from this time would be a lie. But she was grateful for everything that happened. And she wanted all that followed. But then she began to mourn. What are you waiting for? In this big old house with cars are maintained. "Oh!" and "that's life," he would say. With one day leading to another, you get a little closer to his death, which was well with him. She did not move all day, she may have left, never clean another mess or fold his shirts or look her best. She was free to burn alone. The Last night my brother was drunk and driving. And this cop pulled to the side of the road. And he said: "You have the official agent of the person wrong No!. No, I am a medical student, the son of a banker, who does not understand, "said the policeman:" No one was injured, should be grateful. And their lack of care is terrible. And no, I can not let go. And if his father's name is known, your decisions are only you. You're just one step on the road debt, loss, shame. "In recent months I have lived with this couple. Yeah, you know, the kind that buy everything in doubles. They come together like a puzzle. And I love and I'm glad someone actually wins the prize that was promised by all the fairy tales that drugged us. And I do. I'm sick, lonely, no laurel, only envy green. It is my number finally come? Since love is a kind of lottery where you can scratch and see what's underneath. It's "Sorry", a cherry, "Play again ". Try your luck. So I had to spend the day with the train station. No, do not rise. I just sit and watch the people there. And they remind me wind car in motion. The way round and round and compete for positions. And I want to scream that this is absurd. All his life a track, do not you see it is useless? But then my knees give under me. My head feels weak and suddenly obvious that it is not, but I, who has lost my identity. As you hide behind of these books I've read, while scribbling my poetry, like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve. And I never I'm real, is only a sketch of me. And everything is made banal and cheap waste and paint, tape, time. So now I can park my car in my cathedral where reflectors at first bell. Choir practice was filling with people. I hear the exhaust sound like an echo. Leaning toward the ceiling at an angle. When the mixture voices sound like angels. I hope there is still some space in the center. But when I raise my voice now to achieve them. The range is too high, while in the sky. So I shut up, forget the song, tie my shoes and walk out. And try to continue only with my broken heart and my absent God and I have faith, but it's all I want to be loved and believe in my soul, my soul …

J’Lostein – November Rain (Original Song)

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