She puts the knife on the lamb’s throat
but seeing the innocent lamb in the eyes...

(old one)
They conspired against songs...

It was in the black and white of his magic
that all my childhood turned into the colour...

how pretty you are in the vanity mirror
is how the mirror...

The awe
of wrinkles...

Everything is running,
seemingly towards somewhere...

If you kill the messenger
The message forever...

Where has the butterfly winged?
Where has the flower gone...

They choose gutless ones
for they could...

God is dead,
thus Zarathustra said...

To P&Q
Loneliness...

So much passion altering from feeling to action,
measuring the seas of boulders and rocks...