ESTELLA
Estella steps in silence, her every movement caught, encased in gilded memory.
Here is comes again, anticipation racing through me, thrilling with enotion you still me.
(Chorus)
Estella, estella you, you're missing all you see, i'm missing you.
Estella, estella you dream, you're missing all you see, i'm missing you.
Estella moves in shadows, her every whisper caught, exhale and draw it in again.
When everything gets lost in the twilight i'll be waiting, you keep me guessing, you enigma, you dream.
(Chorus)
Estella, estella you, you're missing all you see, i'm missing you.
Estella, estella you dream, you're missing all you see, i'm missing you, my sweet.
Wide eyed, weak kneed, stare me through my soul, you pierce me nothing short of holding nothing back.
Come down to me and i'll show you, you mean worlds to me, you do.
Fare thee well my love, believe me when i say, i love you madley, deeply, always.
(Chorus)
Estella, estella you, you're missing all you see, i'm missing you.
Estella, estella you dream, you're missing all you see, i'm missing you.
Song by: Ace Troubleshooter
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Monday, July 28, 2003
THE PESSIMIST
Nothing to do but work,
Nothing to eat but food,
Nothing to wear but clothes
To keep one from going nude.
Nothing to breathe but air
Quick as a flash 't is gone;
Nowhere to fall but off,
Nowhere to stand but on.
Nothing to comb but hair,
Nowhere to sleep but in bed,
Nothing to weep but tears,
Nothing to bury but dead.
Nothing to sing but songs,
Ah, well, alas! alack!
Nowhere to go but out,
Nowhere to come but back.
Nothing to see but sights,
Nothing to quench but thirst,
Nothing to have but what we've got;
Thus thro' life we are cursed.
Nothing to strike but a gait;
Everything moves that goes.
Nothing at all but common sense
Can ever withstand these woes.
By Benjamin Franklin King
Nothing to do but work,
Nothing to eat but food,
Nothing to wear but clothes
To keep one from going nude.
Nothing to breathe but air
Quick as a flash 't is gone;
Nowhere to fall but off,
Nowhere to stand but on.
Nothing to comb but hair,
Nowhere to sleep but in bed,
Nothing to weep but tears,
Nothing to bury but dead.
Nothing to sing but songs,
Ah, well, alas! alack!
Nowhere to go but out,
Nowhere to come but back.
Nothing to see but sights,
Nothing to quench but thirst,
Nothing to have but what we've got;
Thus thro' life we are cursed.
Nothing to strike but a gait;
Everything moves that goes.
Nothing at all but common sense
Can ever withstand these woes.
By Benjamin Franklin King
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