6 Mar 2008

{offscreen}

the night is fine when blue
and by the thick frames, young arms, transported back
in the sky and the freedom to ride a kiss,
methane from the idea to create a lava tube
some days, you may be born
the eyes - this time a mistake is another man's lips levels below the pink
Horie by Ho Leahy battlefield for 1000
my finger in the electric frenzy of relief at noon piercings
obviously there is a bubble in the afternoon sun completely blinded
the red dots diagram displays the army and the end of the Gallup
the Scarlet death of more than a small box, I
until now act as water vapour is tinged with sadness
this long, emotional unrest of the past and face war march
my lips deceiving force under the sun
hurrying the paradise of the storm
the bright clusters of particles arriving at the bottom Trot
this silhouette of dawn, full of love,
waiting for the latest stink unregimented life of fantasy
we reached the colour of the pieces through the debilitating
soldiers exploring the middle of the night
ghosts of the past towards a bridge back negative glances silent plea to repeat itself
all of these are quickly out of the shadow of the red this way and that way,
far from the growth on the horizon, beyond the imagination of syllables, and the desire of my fellow countrymen to consider the long hand absorptions
this is an unwanted ghost building created from the pain
some of the world's future genocide
my hatred remains in the rain outside tragedy rattles
the prophecy of this phase, two words would never dream of spending progress during this period of war, we have created a transparent
thick frame, and moved to my beloved young arms
below Rosy is Leahy
my finger in the electric impulse relief noon completely blind
cross points chart presents the army and
these long-term, and the emotional turmoil of the past and faces the war in March
bright clusters of particles arriving at the bottom of
this silhouette dawn for the latest Allantnhalehiah fantasy
come to the color blocks through times
for more soldiers were exploring midnight
ghosts of the past towards a bridge negative return profiles appeal silent dear breast repeating itself
these are all quickly out of the shadows of the Red Army of control
beyond the imagination of the passages, and the desire of my fellow citizens to consider the long-absorbed hand rattle all these rumors to be held, such as the black water.

3 comments:

Robert said...

woot!

the possibilities with recombinant writing are really endless

kek-w said...

REwiiiind!

jaan said...

nice one_
love resampled sound of text_