Found myself within some old songs today. Seems like everytime I´m losing sight something like that reminds me of what I am ... or at least what I should be.
Some kind of this calming roughness, double-ironic and at it´s twisted special way manifested truth to the core.
Sharp edges and imperfectness. So many details in this constantly changing chaos; could spend hours just wondering ´bout how many colours can be born from the deep black of sarcasm.
It´s like a piece of art and I´m the only one who´s able to see the message. Not sure if they´re blind or I´m crazy, doesn´t matter anyway.
"Never even knew what you meant to convey
you handed us a retrospect ´til you didn´t have a thing to say
Take a number... your time has come
You´re another soul to feed to the Man´s Machine"