And I love you so
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Not that I'm unoriginal... but these lyrics are so beautiful... so gotta paste them here.
Oldies taste as good as aged wine...
Females are just a sucker for romantic tunes... (you don't have to disagree!)
I would love to imagine someone sings this to me... I would melt and seep into the cracks in the cement ground... ha!
okaaaay... what a off statement. Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy...
And I Love You So ~ Perry Como
And I love you so
The people ask me how
How I've lived 'til now
I tell them I don't know
I guess they understand
How lonely life has been
But life began again
The day you took my hand
And yes I know, how lonely life can be
The shadows follow me
And the night won't set me free
But I don't let the evening get me down
Now that you're around me
And you love me too
Your thoughts are just for me
You set my spirit free
I'm happy that you do
The book of life is brief
And once a page is read
All but life is dead
That is my belief
And yes I know, how lonely life can be
The shadows follow me
And the night won't set me free
But I don't let the evening get me down
Now that you're around me
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:49 AM |
Walking out of the shadows
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Cold, harsh, vengeful
Dark, desolate, despair
Echo of the past mourn eternally
Shadows of memories linger in the corridor of your life
Life stands still for you
Life is but a mere ticking of the clock
Life is but a routine of eat, work and sleep
Just like how the hands revolve on the clock face
over and over again
Life no longer has a purpose
Life is but a waiting game
I chance by your corridor
Separated by a door
The mystery of your dark allures me
Empathy for your longing
Compassion for your wasted passion
Beckon me to turn the knob, open the door
Never did know
Darkness is your food
Memories are your companions
But it is then we realize
We both have been searching for completeness
in each other
You take the step
out of the door
Shedding the skins of the past
out of shadows, into the light
Reaching out to me
into my world
I can never walk down your corridor
Read all the memoirs of your past
Grasp the lingering shadows of your darkness
Like the moon that can never catch a glimpse of the sun
When I hear
It is a voice that is pained
When I touch
It is a body that is scarred
When I feel
It is a soul that is no longer passionate
As the light melts away the shadows
Your life awakens
I embrace your forthcoming with open arms
You and I are a whole
But I can never walk down your corridor
shut behind us…
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:53 AM |
Red Indian Chief & Weather story
Friday, September 17, 2004
Got this from a friend...
One of the most original jokes I've heard for this period. Ha!
It was autumn, and the Indians on the remote reservation asked their new Chief if the winter was going to be cold or mild. Since he was an Indian Chief in a modern society, he had never been taught the old secrets, and when he looked at the sky, he couldn't tell what the heck the weather was going to be.
Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he replied to his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect wood to be prepared.But also being a practical leader, after several days he got an idea.
He went to the phone booth, called the National Weather Service and asked,"Is the coming winter going to be cold?""It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold indeed,"the Meteorologist at the weather service responded.S o the Chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more wood in order to be prepared.
One week later he called the National Weather Service again."Is it going to be a very cold winter?" he asked."Yes," the man at National Weather Service again replied, "it's going tobe a very cold winter."The Chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect everyscrap of wood they could find.
Two weeks later he called the National Weather Service again."Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?""Absolutely," the man replied. "It looks like it's going to be one of the coldest winters ever.""How can you be so sure?" the Chief asked.The weatherman replied, "The Indians are collecting firewood like crazy."
Sometimes life is just like a merry-go-round...
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:26 AM |
If you need to...
Thursday, September 16, 2004
If you need to fly
then fly
spread your wings and fly
to where your heart desires
then don't look back
'till you are ready to rest
If you need to taste
then
savour the flavours of life,
spoil yourself with spices of existence
then don't stop sampling
'till you are ready to stop
If you need to love
and
experience the sensational
go to the depths of despair
then go forth
'till you find the love of the life time
If you need to run
run
escape from the everyday toils
away from the ugliness and sadness
then hideaway
'till you are ready to face the world
If you need to...
I'll always be around
to journey with you
till world's end
--to dar
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:02 AM |
Rise from the pits
Monday, September 13, 2004
When all things that can go wrong
have gone wrong
like how a pimple choose to pop up
on the day before your first show
like how a car splashes water on you on a rainy day
when you are walking on the pavement with your new dress
When despite how you tried and
nothing seems to go right
like how you fumble over your dance steps
although it is your 100th time dancing
like how you made sure everyone gets adequate practices
and everyone is always late or doesn't turn up
When all you see are obstacles ahead of you
that are determined to bring you down
like you sing the wrong lyrics in your show
although you memorise it for a million time
these are the days when you gotta rise from the pits
give it a swear
wipe the dust off your face
and move on with the same determination
that drives you to walk down this path
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:52 AM |
blog it like an html idiot
Saturday, September 11, 2004
gosh...
took me hell of a lot of time to figure out how to fix the header...
and how to get the date and time back in place...
and how to change the background colour...
still gotta fix the redundant archive links...
and it's gonna take a hell of alot of time again...
but good way to destress... hiak!
=============================================
html idiot
but screaming for web presence
hence
blog is next to the best
html codes
seems to be English
but
reads like Latin
html editing
similiar to editing writings
however
grammatical errors are allowed!
html publishing
is as addictive as drugs
nevertheless
makes you brain dead instead of high!
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 2:15 AM |
New skin! New Look!
Friday, September 10, 2004
Yoo hooo!!!
New skin! Like a snake that sheds its skin... this is gonna be smoooooother ... yea baby yea...
Not too bad for a html beginner...... dunno how to get back my header though... argh... had to leave it as it is first...
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 3:25 PM |
When words just left me
For a moment
you thought
you ought to say it
and
nothing comes out
and
emotions took over
and
uncertainty of right or wrong prevails
the moment passes
and you know
it's over
And you want to redeem
by making up for lost words
through actions
But you know
the moment passes
and it's over
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 2:01 AM |
In the mood for some romantic and gentle loving...
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Sonnet 17
by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were a rose made of salt or topaz
or an arrow of carnations spreading fire:
I love you the way certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you like the plant that does not flower,
but conceals within itself the light of those flowers;
and, thanks to your love, the darkness of my body
houses the suffocating aroma that arose from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, when, or where from;
I love you straightforwardly, with neither problems nor pride:
I love you so, not knowing how to love you otherwise,
just this way that is not me and is not you...
so close that your hand on my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes grow heavy when I tire.
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 6:04 PM |
It's September now
September time... and raining...
Make things look foggy with the curtain of rain,
yet washes away grim and dirt to make things seem clearer
Makes me think of this song
Try To Remember
Singer: Perry Como
Try to remember the kind of September, When life was slow and oh so mellow. Try to remember the kind of September, When grass was green and grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September, When you were a tender and callow fellow. Try to remember, and if you remember, Then follow ( follow ) follow ( follow ) follow . . .
Try to remember when life was so tender, That no one wept except the willow, Try to remember when life was so tender, That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender, That love was an ember about to billow, Try to remember, and if you remember, Then follow ( follow ) follow . . .
( follow . . .deep in December it's nice to remember, Although you know the snow will follow. Deep in December it's nice to remember, Without a hurt the heart is hollow. )
Deep in December it's nice to remember, The fire of September that made us mellow. Deep in December our heart's should remember, And follow ( follow ) follow ( follow ) follow . . .
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 4:02 AM |
Facing Window..
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Had just watched an Italian movie 'Facing Window'.
What a freshing change from Hollywood movies with mindless lines from script writers and directors who think all audiences are dumb ass and watch movies for cheap thrill.
Facing Window thrills me nonetheless. The movie is what I call, a movie with not a line wasted.
As a fine exemplary specimen of a movie well filmed, every single word exist for a reason, a meaning, a truth that cannot be taken away. Without which, the movie will be incomplete.
The main question is well in check throughout the entire movie, keeps me on the edge of my seat, waiting for an answer.
A story of a young mother of two, with a nine year old marriage who was unsatisfied with her life and her husband who couldn't keep to a job. This translated to her unloving attitude and even her daughter inherited her 'venomous tongue'. The thing that kept her burning with passion was to spy on the handsome neighbour in the next block whose window faces her kitchen's window. And the twist of fate landed on her door step when her husband decided to bring an old man home because he had lost his memory and the husband couldn't bear to leave him in lurch.
The old man brought the handsome neighbour and the lady together. So... they did the deed, had an affair and eloped in search for her happiness? That's how hollywood movies usually end up.
But no...
The old man recovered his memory and it turned out that he was a gay pastry chef and now a famous pastry chef and still gay. He dispensed an advice to the lady, who also had passion for pastry making, "You must demand to live in a better world, not just dream about it..."
The answer to the lady's happiness is not as simple as eloping with the handsome neighbour, but to search within herself and pick up the courage to live up to her dreams.
Someone told me... dream and tell yourself you will get it and you will get it.
Well, work towards it and even if at the end of the day before your last breath and you still can't get it, at least, you are on your way there.
Face the window... face your life...
written on 28th May 2004
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 3:05 PM |
Fall to fly
Rolling and cruising in life
is scary.
The sheer velocity
is simply
uncontrollable.
Yet it is irresistible to just gain speed
and let go
to fly
I yearn to cruise
put my life on the highway
Then I'll speed past other lives
peek at them over their car tops
Then I'll be happy
'cos I have seen it all
done it all
But I'm just a little apprehensive
to just push my leg a little further on the accelerator
The fear to lose it all
just sets in
But without broken limbs
and a few bruises
I can't fly
If falling and getting bruises and broken limbs
are what it takes to fly
I'll just fall to fly
written on 14th May 2004
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 3:00 PM |
People
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
People
People who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world
We're children needing other children
And yet, letting our grown up pride
Hide all the need inside
Acting more like children than children
People
God's children
Were born to be free
To love
All people have a dream
For peace, for security
Let the world fall in love again
Please, please, let our lies not be in vain
Lovers
Are very special people
They're the luckiest people in the world
With one person
One very special person
A feeling deep in your soul says
You were half, now you're whole
No more hunger and thirst
But first be a person who needs people
People who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world
Musical: Funny Girl
We often want to stop needing other people
so that we won't be vulnerable
so that we will be self sufficient
so that we are not subjected to pain inflicted by others
But when we need someone
we are telling that person
we trust ourselves in your hands
Be gentle to those who need you
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 2:06 AM |
Flower
Flower
She dreams of the country
Her eyes go far away.
She wishes for flowers
He says, "perhaps in may."
The city always was gray
The reflections of his eyes.
And she knows he liked it that way
And that way he shall die, well...
She’s always known,
That there was something more.
There’s this hunger in her belly
Like an instinct it tells her that there’s something more.
This living shouldn’t be called living
’cause it’s really only half a life.
She’s a flower that grows despite cement holes
And she will survive, she will survive.
She’s a rare breed with violet eyes
And leafy limbs.
In conversations she looks for cracks
To dig her roots deep in.
And her ways come up like daisies,
She pushes her head to the sun.
She says "i am content here to grow
Despite the steel frost that consumes everyone."
She’s always known,
That there was something more.
There’s this hunger in her belly
Like an instinct it tells her that there’s something more.
This living shouldn’t be called living
’cause it’s really only half a life.
She’s a flower that grows despite cement holes.
And she will survive, she will survive.
In the end these steel cages will consume us
And like coffins ignorance will take us in and
Fashion don’t mean anything
’cause fashion cannot be our friends.
And when all else fades away
And the city falls into it’s sleep.
We’ll still have flesh, blood, bones and
Our soul to deal with so we should
Dig our roots deep.
Always known,
That there’s something more.
There’s this hunger in our bellies
It’s like an instinct it tells us that there’s something more.
This living shouldn’t be called living
’cause it’s really only half a life.
She’s a flower that grows despite cement holes.
And we will survive, we will survive, we will survive, we will Survive.
Singer: Jewel
Flower from concrete jungle _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:58 AM |
And I love you so
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Not that I'm unoriginal... but these lyrics are so beautiful... so gotta paste them here.
Oldies taste as good as aged wine...
Females are just a sucker for romantic tunes... (you don't have to disagree!)
I would love to imagine someone sings this to me... I would melt and seep into the cracks in the cement ground... ha!
okaaaay... what a off statement. Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy...
And I Love You So ~ Perry Como
And I love you so
The people ask me how
How I've lived 'til now
I tell them I don't know
I guess they understand
How lonely life has been
But life began again
The day you took my hand
And yes I know, how lonely life can be
The shadows follow me
And the night won't set me free
But I don't let the evening get me down
Now that you're around me
And you love me too
Your thoughts are just for me
You set my spirit free
I'm happy that you do
The book of life is brief
And once a page is read
All but life is dead
That is my belief
And yes I know, how lonely life can be
The shadows follow me
And the night won't set me free
But I don't let the evening get me down
Now that you're around me
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:49 AM |
Walking out of the shadows
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Cold, harsh, vengeful
Dark, desolate, despair
Echo of the past mourn eternally
Shadows of memories linger in the corridor of your life
Life stands still for you
Life is but a mere ticking of the clock
Life is but a routine of eat, work and sleep
Just like how the hands revolve on the clock face
over and over again
Life no longer has a purpose
Life is but a waiting game
I chance by your corridor
Separated by a door
The mystery of your dark allures me
Empathy for your longing
Compassion for your wasted passion
Beckon me to turn the knob, open the door
Never did know
Darkness is your food
Memories are your companions
But it is then we realize
We both have been searching for completeness
in each other
You take the step
out of the door
Shedding the skins of the past
out of shadows, into the light
Reaching out to me
into my world
I can never walk down your corridor
Read all the memoirs of your past
Grasp the lingering shadows of your darkness
Like the moon that can never catch a glimpse of the sun
When I hear
It is a voice that is pained
When I touch
It is a body that is scarred
When I feel
It is a soul that is no longer passionate
As the light melts away the shadows
Your life awakens
I embrace your forthcoming with open arms
You and I are a whole
But I can never walk down your corridor
shut behind us…
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:53 AM |
Red Indian Chief & Weather story
Friday, September 17, 2004
Got this from a friend...
One of the most original jokes I've heard for this period. Ha!
It was autumn, and the Indians on the remote reservation asked their new Chief if the winter was going to be cold or mild. Since he was an Indian Chief in a modern society, he had never been taught the old secrets, and when he looked at the sky, he couldn't tell what the heck the weather was going to be.
Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he replied to his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect wood to be prepared.But also being a practical leader, after several days he got an idea.
He went to the phone booth, called the National Weather Service and asked,"Is the coming winter going to be cold?""It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold indeed,"the Meteorologist at the weather service responded.S o the Chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more wood in order to be prepared.
One week later he called the National Weather Service again."Is it going to be a very cold winter?" he asked."Yes," the man at National Weather Service again replied, "it's going tobe a very cold winter."The Chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect everyscrap of wood they could find.
Two weeks later he called the National Weather Service again."Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?""Absolutely," the man replied. "It looks like it's going to be one of the coldest winters ever.""How can you be so sure?" the Chief asked.The weatherman replied, "The Indians are collecting firewood like crazy."
Sometimes life is just like a merry-go-round...
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:26 AM |
If you need to...
Thursday, September 16, 2004
If you need to fly
then fly
spread your wings and fly
to where your heart desires
then don't look back
'till you are ready to rest
If you need to taste
then
savour the flavours of life,
spoil yourself with spices of existence
then don't stop sampling
'till you are ready to stop
If you need to love
and
experience the sensational
go to the depths of despair
then go forth
'till you find the love of the life time
If you need to run
run
escape from the everyday toils
away from the ugliness and sadness
then hideaway
'till you are ready to face the world
If you need to...
I'll always be around
to journey with you
till world's end
--to dar
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:02 AM |
Rise from the pits
Monday, September 13, 2004
When all things that can go wrong
have gone wrong
like how a pimple choose to pop up
on the day before your first show
like how a car splashes water on you on a rainy day
when you are walking on the pavement with your new dress
When despite how you tried and
nothing seems to go right
like how you fumble over your dance steps
although it is your 100th time dancing
like how you made sure everyone gets adequate practices
and everyone is always late or doesn't turn up
When all you see are obstacles ahead of you
that are determined to bring you down
like you sing the wrong lyrics in your show
although you memorise it for a million time
these are the days when you gotta rise from the pits
give it a swear
wipe the dust off your face
and move on with the same determination
that drives you to walk down this path
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:52 AM |
blog it like an html idiot
Saturday, September 11, 2004
gosh...
took me hell of a lot of time to figure out how to fix the header...
and how to get the date and time back in place...
and how to change the background colour...
still gotta fix the redundant archive links...
and it's gonna take a hell of alot of time again...
but good way to destress... hiak!
=============================================
html idiot
but screaming for web presence
hence
blog is next to the best
html codes
seems to be English
but
reads like Latin
html editing
similiar to editing writings
however
grammatical errors are allowed!
html publishing
is as addictive as drugs
nevertheless
makes you brain dead instead of high!
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 2:15 AM |
New skin! New Look!
Friday, September 10, 2004
Yoo hooo!!!
New skin! Like a snake that sheds its skin... this is gonna be smoooooother ... yea baby yea...
Not too bad for a html beginner...... dunno how to get back my header though... argh... had to leave it as it is first...
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 3:25 PM |
When words just left me
For a moment
you thought
you ought to say it
and
nothing comes out
and
emotions took over
and
uncertainty of right or wrong prevails
the moment passes
and you know
it's over
And you want to redeem
by making up for lost words
through actions
But you know
the moment passes
and it's over
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 2:01 AM |
In the mood for some romantic and gentle loving...
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Sonnet 17
by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were a rose made of salt or topaz
or an arrow of carnations spreading fire:
I love you the way certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you like the plant that does not flower,
but conceals within itself the light of those flowers;
and, thanks to your love, the darkness of my body
houses the suffocating aroma that arose from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, when, or where from;
I love you straightforwardly, with neither problems nor pride:
I love you so, not knowing how to love you otherwise,
just this way that is not me and is not you...
so close that your hand on my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes grow heavy when I tire.
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 6:04 PM |
It's September now
September time... and raining...
Make things look foggy with the curtain of rain,
yet washes away grim and dirt to make things seem clearer
Makes me think of this song
Try To Remember
Singer: Perry Como
Try to remember the kind of September, When life was slow and oh so mellow. Try to remember the kind of September, When grass was green and grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September, When you were a tender and callow fellow. Try to remember, and if you remember, Then follow ( follow ) follow ( follow ) follow . . .
Try to remember when life was so tender, That no one wept except the willow, Try to remember when life was so tender, That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender, That love was an ember about to billow, Try to remember, and if you remember, Then follow ( follow ) follow . . .
( follow . . .deep in December it's nice to remember, Although you know the snow will follow. Deep in December it's nice to remember, Without a hurt the heart is hollow. )
Deep in December it's nice to remember, The fire of September that made us mellow. Deep in December our heart's should remember, And follow ( follow ) follow ( follow ) follow . . .
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 4:02 AM |
Facing Window..
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Had just watched an Italian movie 'Facing Window'.
What a freshing change from Hollywood movies with mindless lines from script writers and directors who think all audiences are dumb ass and watch movies for cheap thrill.
Facing Window thrills me nonetheless. The movie is what I call, a movie with not a line wasted.
As a fine exemplary specimen of a movie well filmed, every single word exist for a reason, a meaning, a truth that cannot be taken away. Without which, the movie will be incomplete.
The main question is well in check throughout the entire movie, keeps me on the edge of my seat, waiting for an answer.
A story of a young mother of two, with a nine year old marriage who was unsatisfied with her life and her husband who couldn't keep to a job. This translated to her unloving attitude and even her daughter inherited her 'venomous tongue'. The thing that kept her burning with passion was to spy on the handsome neighbour in the next block whose window faces her kitchen's window. And the twist of fate landed on her door step when her husband decided to bring an old man home because he had lost his memory and the husband couldn't bear to leave him in lurch.
The old man brought the handsome neighbour and the lady together. So... they did the deed, had an affair and eloped in search for her happiness? That's how hollywood movies usually end up.
But no...
The old man recovered his memory and it turned out that he was a gay pastry chef and now a famous pastry chef and still gay. He dispensed an advice to the lady, who also had passion for pastry making, "You must demand to live in a better world, not just dream about it..."
The answer to the lady's happiness is not as simple as eloping with the handsome neighbour, but to search within herself and pick up the courage to live up to her dreams.
Someone told me... dream and tell yourself you will get it and you will get it.
Well, work towards it and even if at the end of the day before your last breath and you still can't get it, at least, you are on your way there.
Face the window... face your life...
written on 28th May 2004
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 3:05 PM |
Fall to fly
Rolling and cruising in life
is scary.
The sheer velocity
is simply
uncontrollable.
Yet it is irresistible to just gain speed
and let go
to fly
I yearn to cruise
put my life on the highway
Then I'll speed past other lives
peek at them over their car tops
Then I'll be happy
'cos I have seen it all
done it all
But I'm just a little apprehensive
to just push my leg a little further on the accelerator
The fear to lose it all
just sets in
But without broken limbs
and a few bruises
I can't fly
If falling and getting bruises and broken limbs
are what it takes to fly
I'll just fall to fly
written on 14th May 2004
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 3:00 PM |
People
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
People
People who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world
We're children needing other children
And yet, letting our grown up pride
Hide all the need inside
Acting more like children than children
People
God's children
Were born to be free
To love
All people have a dream
For peace, for security
Let the world fall in love again
Please, please, let our lies not be in vain
Lovers
Are very special people
They're the luckiest people in the world
With one person
One very special person
A feeling deep in your soul says
You were half, now you're whole
No more hunger and thirst
But first be a person who needs people
People who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world
Musical: Funny Girl
We often want to stop needing other people
so that we won't be vulnerable
so that we will be self sufficient
so that we are not subjected to pain inflicted by others
But when we need someone
we are telling that person
we trust ourselves in your hands
Be gentle to those who need you
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 2:06 AM |
Flower
Flower
She dreams of the country
Her eyes go far away.
She wishes for flowers
He says, "perhaps in may."
The city always was gray
The reflections of his eyes.
And she knows he liked it that way
And that way he shall die, well...
She’s always known,
That there was something more.
There’s this hunger in her belly
Like an instinct it tells her that there’s something more.
This living shouldn’t be called living
’cause it’s really only half a life.
She’s a flower that grows despite cement holes
And she will survive, she will survive.
She’s a rare breed with violet eyes
And leafy limbs.
In conversations she looks for cracks
To dig her roots deep in.
And her ways come up like daisies,
She pushes her head to the sun.
She says "i am content here to grow
Despite the steel frost that consumes everyone."
She’s always known,
That there was something more.
There’s this hunger in her belly
Like an instinct it tells her that there’s something more.
This living shouldn’t be called living
’cause it’s really only half a life.
She’s a flower that grows despite cement holes.
And she will survive, she will survive.
In the end these steel cages will consume us
And like coffins ignorance will take us in and
Fashion don’t mean anything
’cause fashion cannot be our friends.
And when all else fades away
And the city falls into it’s sleep.
We’ll still have flesh, blood, bones and
Our soul to deal with so we should
Dig our roots deep.
Always known,
That there’s something more.
There’s this hunger in our bellies
It’s like an instinct it tells us that there’s something more.
This living shouldn’t be called living
’cause it’s really only half a life.
She’s a flower that grows despite cement holes.
And we will survive, we will survive, we will survive, we will Survive.
Singer: Jewel
Y o u r N a m e _ b l o g g e d _ @ 1:58 AM |
