Wednesday, 9 September 2009

Bee Scene and knot herd

Talking- it's a wierd phenomonon isn't it?

It's one of the first landmarks in life, we spend years developing it, trying to do it skillfully, with tact and honesty, employing an appropriate eloquance, and understanding to the tiniest degree the enormity a few words can have on someone.

But when all is said and done, most of us still can't say what we want to, and when we do, if we ever do, chances are there'll be no one there to listen.

Here's a man who I think has an astounding way with words, the catalyst behind my blog title, and an altogether amazing artist. He explains the meandering ideas of this blog post better than I ever could.

Tables and Chairs
If we can call them friends we can call them on red telephones
and they won't pretend that they're too busy or they're not alone
if we can call them friends we can call
holler at 'em down these hallowed halls
but just don't let the human factor fail to be a factor at all.

don't you worry
about the atmosphere
or any sudden pressure change.

'Cause I know
that it's starting
to get warm in here
and things are
starting to get strange.

And did you,
did you see how
all our friends were there
and they were drinkin' roses from the can

how I wish I,
I had talked to them
and wished they
fit into my plan..

And we were tired of being mild.
oh so tired of being mild,
we were so tired.

I know we're gonna meet someday in the crumbled financial institutions of this land
there will be tables and chairs
pony rides and dancing bears
there'll even be a band
'cause listen after the fall there'll be no more countries
no currencies at all
we're gonna live on our wits
throw away survival kits
trade butterfly knives for adderal
and that's not all
there will be snacks, there will
there will be snacks.

And we were tired of being mild.
oh so tired of being mild,
we were so tired...

So don't you
don't you worry
about the atmosphere.

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