Rotten is my soul, which arises in the air
Lyrics without a single mean echoes through the eternal stair
I shall admit, suffering is of what I am heir
Rythms go slow cause does fade my will
And surey I know never does life run as proper as a mill
Regardless of how exhausted I am, It gets harder still
Though I was said to see enthralling lands as I advance
Only thing I’ve found so far’s a suffering abundance
However I still am even to go further along this way fulfilled with their evil deviance.
I want this!
People do not get hostile as you grow old. That’s the most basic rule of this game. The more strenght you gain, harder life gets.
İnsanlardan nefret ediyorum çünkü insanlar;
bencil,
anlayışsız,
düşüncesiz,
tembel,
saldırgan,
önyargılı…
onlar, onlar, onlar…
ya biz kimiz?
biz diye bir şey var mı?
My home is my castle, into which I can hide anytime I need.
Uğruna vazgeçtiklerin, bazen uğruna vazgeçilenden daha önemlidir.
Huzur Beatles’dadır.
