Timber Timber - Black Water
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Timber Timber - Black Water

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a late discovery of mine, found it under the moonlight today...
Bouquet is broken. It’s found on person. A threat is sunken beneath the ocean. And when the numbers count down to none. Another sequence somehow begun.
And it’s the note that stings. And it’s the prose that sticks. And its question hanging around the center of the one.
And to no surprise. There’ll be no sunrise.
Reflecting eyes upon the surface. What’s beneath the water trailing out from sea. I bet you know more than you sermon. I’ll leave you to the blankness. It’s more than you left me.
Please break the pattern.
It’s sucking on the more than worthless Swept under the blanket. That’s where you met me. It’s bleeding innocent all over. In a sense that matters. Always just empty.
Gone for good.
You can take that how you want.
I adjust the time For you to be here.
Don’t go.
And you taste my tears And we share our souls.
I’m walking on my own. I’m walking all alone.
Think of the times when time becomes meaningless

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I bleach the sky every night loaded on wrong and further from right spinning around two howling moons cos there always there whatever I do the river is loaded I've been there today tool it some questions she does me again I'd die in your arms if you were dead too here comes a lie we will always be true
In the city, a bright light The kind that is always around Take your wishes, hide now If you know what it means to me If I told you that my heart Holds a part of that light Then why is always something wrong? You know what it costs me That I'm lost here
Shadows settle on the place, that you left. Our minds are troubled by the emptiness. Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time. From the perfect start to the finish line. And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones. 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs. Setting fire to our insides for fun Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong The lovers that went wrong. We are the reckless, We are the wild youth Chasing visions of our futures One day we'll reveal the truth That one will die before he gets there. And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones. 'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone. We're setting fire to our insides for fun. Collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home, It was a flood that wrecked this home. And you caused it, And you caused it, And you caused it Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette, A lifeless face that you'll soon forget, My eyes are damp from the words you left, Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest. Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest. And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one, 'Cause most of us are bitter over someone. Setting fire to our insides for fun, To distract our hearts from ever missing them. But I'm forever missing him. And you caused it, And you caused it, And you caused it

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2017 Doomsday Clock Announcement
İçeride Çığlık
İnsanların muhteşem bir gücü var. Kendi içlerine dönüp çığlık atabiliyorlar, sessizce, kimse fark etmeden haykırabiliyorlar delice. Kimseyi rahatsız etmeden, kimsenin gereksiz, yetersiz ilgisini üzerlerine çekmeden. Son zamanlarda bunu o kadar sık yapmaya başladım ki, uyumuyorsam ama gözlerim kapalıysa bunu yapar şekilde bulmaya başladım artık kendimi. İnsanların çoğu bozulmuş iyi niyetlere sahip geri zekalılar "trust me!" ve günü kurtarma çabasındalar sadece. İnsanların azı ise yüzlerce sıfırı olan yapay bir zenginlik için üçün beşin hesabını yapıp küçük işlerin peşinden koşuyor her şeyi kırıp döküyor. Yüzlerce sıfırı olan küçük işler? Garip mi geldi? Bir de biraz uzaklaşıp uzaydan bak ne kadar garip ve ne kadar önemsiz olduğuna. Dünyanın fark edilebilir bir mesafeden görüntüsünde 3 ana şey var. Mavi, beyaz ve yeşil. İşte bunu kırıp döküyorlar işte size-bize göre büyük ama aslında küçücük hesapları için bunu yok ediyorlar.
Gece uyumayanlar için en güzel müzik... hala...
My pain... is self-chosen At least so the prophet says I could either burn Or cut off my pride and buy some time A head full of lies is the weight Tied to my waist The river of deceit pulls down The only direction we flow is down Down, oh down My pain... is self-chosen At least I believe it to be I could either drown Or pull off my skin and swim to shore Now I can grow a beautiful Shell for all to see The river of deceit pulls down The only direction we flow is down Down, oh down

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I've a theory of ghosts and i'm a monster to girls I stick in their heart like a rusty spur But i've a theory of ghosts: They're alive and we're all dead; That they're trying to tell us is that it's this way around
And i've a theory of girls They always seem to leave in the spring As if they know that it hurts more To carry a heartbreak through the summer
In the calender storm, i circled a day and tried to hold on And in the last powercut, I whispered her name 'til the lights came on Smoked my indian pipe Listened to the static, the snow on the wire Smoked my indian pipe Listened to the static, the snow on the wire
I have one photograph that captures her smile But i don't have a tape of her laugh
Watercolors can't help me