Not a word of it,
Made me shudder,
Not a chance of it,
Made me squirm,
No place for it,
Made me look elsewhere,
No way for it,
Made me burn,
In hell,
In hell,
Forgiveness melts the sulfurous stones,
That score pits in our souls
We wash them out with warm salt tears,
So that our hearts,
Can hear,
Can hear,
If I practice it like a sport,
To forgive what I understand
It binds me to the rules,
And to that which I command,
So that I might not hear a word of it,
I might not give it a chance,
I might not find a place for it,
No way for it to stand,
Then I burn,
In hell,
In hell,
Yet I might one day risk it,
And forgive things on a whim,
Not look for a hidden reason,
In my catalogue of sins,
Then I’ll burn, baby burn,
—disco inferno,
Burn baby burn…
This one was written by a computer.
thenation.com/doc/20081215/s … l=hp_books
[quote]Utmost as a stand
Calling
Calling
A stand
Horned and hornless
Disgust
Fine as a
station
Like a hungry bee
Of wilderness
A child of epochs
An utmost play
To say an utmost hem [/quote]
I think yours was better than that, Fox. I just thought the article was interesting.
Satisfaction came in a chain reaction - Do you hear?
I couldn’t get enough, so I had to self destruct,
The heat was on, rising to the top
Everybody’s goin’ strong
That is when my spark got hot
I heard somebody say…
I accept fully that mine is only marginally better than the computer, but what’s the chances of that machine injecting Disco Inferno into the unsuspecting mind.