forgive yourself
srijeda, 13.12.2006.
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Zadnji put dok sam imala namjeru nekaj pisati sam skužila da mi je nestala ona lijepa slikica aurore borealis i popizdila sam tak da mi se nije dalo nikaj drugo nego kopirati ljirikse... i sad onu lijepu sljikicu nemrem naći, pa sam ostavila mjeseca (bil je prije tu, ako ga se itko sjeća, i nije bil blog bez slike, nego mjesec umjesto aurore...) kojeg jaaaaaaaako volim gledati u noći kroz dim... i sad bude laura opet rekla da je to neki znak, ne?! 
al objašnjenja opet nema, ha? vraćanje na staro? u prošlost? ili vraćanje prošlosti? neam pojma... daj barem izmisli nekaj 
opet je subota blizu, a petak još bliže, a pive za mene nebude vjerojatno jer me boli grlo, pa budem ovaj vikend glumila dobro dijete, pila čajeke i gledala gnomove oko sebe kak narucuju nove runde sa stolci koji su u takvim situacijama obično previsoki... JEA RIGHT... čini mi se da bude me to prokleto grlo boljelo do ljeta, al nek... sad je još zabavno, dok su takvi pothvati za mene još ilegalni... 
uskoro nebudu... bože, bože, kam taj svijet ide... nekim čudnim smjerovima... sve više balavci više nisu balavci, nego ih zamjenjuju novi balavci koji smatraju da su bolji od starih balavci, a ubiti nisu jer su svi balavci ipak samo balavci, a mene bude ta riječ progonila cijeli dan... jebemti balavce i one koi su ih naštancali... 
mislim da sam izgubila poantu ovog posta (koje ubiti ni nije bilo, kak i obično) i sad više neam nikaj za reči osim nekih tamo gluposti (ko i uvijek) pa....
You get a shiver in the dark
Its been raining in the park but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You feel all right when you hear that music ring
You step inside but you dont see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Too much competition too many other places
But not too many horns can make that sound
Way on downsouth way on downsouth london town
You check out guitar george he knows all the chords
Mind hes strictly rhythm he doesnt want to make it cry or sing
And an old guitar is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing
And harry doesnt mind if he doesnt make the scene
Hes got a daytime job hes doing alright
He can play honky tonk just like anything
Saving it up for friday night
With the sultans with the sultans of swing
And a crowd of young boys theyre fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They dont give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It aint what they call rock and roll
And the sultans played creole
And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
thank you goodnight now its time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
we are the sultans of swing
The story of a loser - it could be you.
Sweet child in time youll see the line
The line thats drawn between the good and the bad
See the blind man shooting at the world
Bullets flying taking toll
If youve been bad, lord I bet you have
And youve been hit by flying lead
Youd better close your eyes and bow your head
And wait for the ricochet