1. |
I Heard A Voice
04:45
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i was damned before
i heard the call
come o'er the darkened sea
i was lost before
i heard the voice
come calling
through the trees.
the source, the path--
it matters not
home
i go with glee
one phrase sings out
the heart responds--
take me
home.
home.
home.
home.
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2. |
Out Of Options
06:09
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i saw the light drain from your eyes
into a gaze of malaise and spite
"we were bred for nothing but to die--
what more remains for you and i?"
i load up with whisky every night
but six shots to the head won't fix my life
ten thousand ways, all of which i've tried
put ten thousand hours in a worthless lie
i'm sorry, my love, i'm just...tired
ol' david's run out of giants to fight
so load the lead in the .45
and pull the trigger, put the dog down tonight
please don't cry...
i just hope i made the right choice
she's better off without me anyways
the world is better off without the burden of my breath upon it
surely, it is better this way
better than to suffer through one more fuckin' day
better for all of you
better for all of you if i just left
just how do you expect me to go on?
when there is nothing to live for?
nothing to look forward to
nothing to see
nothing to do
how do you expect me to go on without you by my side?
why did you have to go
why did you have to go
why did you have to go?
the consequences of a single misplaced finger
a single misplaced thought
will never truly have to be reckoned with until
my heart is lain upon the scales
heavier than infinite feathers
it crashes through the floor
and draws a path to hell
but how could hell be worse than this?
how could hell be worse than this?
how could hell be worse than this?
how could hell be worse than this?
how could hell be worse than this?
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3. |
Fire At Sea
04:15
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<interviewer>
...nothing that you that you want that you don't have right now, is there really? I mean, you don't think about things like that...you don't want a sailboat
<bukowski>
The only thing i'm missing thing now is more privacy
I would like to be alone
the phone rings too often
there's too many cameras and all that, and I kind of accepted
...but it's not me
when these things are gone I go back to the room and I become myself again.
often times I'll pull down all the shades like I used to
just lay down around, five or six hours
just alone, just lay in that bed and get something back, some kind of juice.
just being away from people is one of the most marvelous fulfillments a man like me can have.
just absence of humanity
it's a fulfillment so graceful that even God would understand if he invented them.
but he probably didn't
*screaming, sputtering, coughing*
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4. |
Unmarked Grave
06:49
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in the dark and pouring rain
i walk the field of stone
in the torchlight, several names
all but one, is known
a stolen bow upon a boquet
lies upon the unknown
a lie engraved upon the rock
lives in a stolen bowl
callously conscribed, engraved upon the granite
a misnomer of a sobriquet
deliberately designed to confuse and obfuscate
the identity of occupancy of this grave
...it's gone
it's all gone.
gone.
the lies she told us, still remain
we never knew just who she was
some mismatched parts told us a lie
never bothered with corrections
on god, i swear--i meant well
don't mean that i didn't fuck up
i'm not a fuckin' murderer
callously conscribed, engraved upon the granite
a misnomer of a sobriquet
deliberately designed to confuse and obfuscate
the identity of occupancy of my grave...
she's gone
she's gone
gone, gone gone....
she's gone home.
<interviewer>
you're not afraid about death?
<bukowski>
no in fact...I almost feel good at the approach of death
<interviewer>
why?
<bukowski>
all that's okay...but you see as you live many years, things take on a repeat
has that ended? are you ended?
things take on a repeat, you understand?
you keep seeing the same thing over and over again...the same substance. the same action, the same reaction
so you get a little bit tired of life
so as death comes you almost say "okay baby it's time. it's good"
so I know I have very little fear of death. in fact I almost welcome it
|
Ophelia Drowning Copenhagen, Denmark
my lord
we know what we are
but know not what we
may be
forlorn sounds
from a place
beyond words
we are not actually from denmark. please read more shakespeare
... more
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