For all those crappy moments when I had to swallow unwanted words, leaking horendously shallow down my throat, for all those moments I shall spit out the sin.
I have never came to a conclusion whether if it's the sin which enslaves us or whether it's us who enslave the sin as many times we just keep on being caught in our own deluge, smoking wee and hunting high the crows on the October sky.
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| Dublin, 06:00 AM, february |
Now i look back to all which was forth and I realize how little do I recall...nor the precious little boy I used to be once, neither the young man who lives within his own future.Somewhere in th presnt we all have bee lost, fella.
Yeh, we have been so.Bring me back to Connemara and soak my shirt in whiskey, let me burn in 4 seconds, whisper trashy words next to my pierced ear and drench me in unholy water.I know you would enjoy all these odds and ends.
How green were the fields of Connemara...
