Sunday, October 5, 2008
WHAT WAS IT YOU WANTED
Nothing but a windy, cold, dirty night to arise against. Sommme bitter taste slippin' through my brain, and when weakness is about to win and endless, growing surprise leaving me fascinated and alive.
Ears wide open, blood running through my vains so proud and so furiously.
Here comes again, here comes the sun, here it is, here it comes, Mr. Robert Zimmerman, the one and only Bob Dylan.