H e l l o ; T h e r e;;

It is cruel, You know, That music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneiness of pain: of strength and freedom. The beauty of dissapointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature and ever-lasting beauty of monotony.

Posted in Inside The Mind Of: A s h l e y;;

Obviously, This is not a song written by me. It is by: Lambert-Potter, sung by Coven. I really love the song;; So here you go..;;

-{O n e  T i n  S o l d i e r}-

Listen, children, to a story
That was written long ago,
'Bout a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley-folk below.

On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath the stone,
And the valley-people swore
They'd have it for their very own.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

So the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill,
Asking for the buried treasure,
Tons of gold for which they'd kill.

Came an answer from the kingdom,
"With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain,
All the riches buried there."

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

Now the valley cried with anger,
"Mount your horses! Draw your sword!"
And they killed the mountain-people,
So they won their just reward.

Now they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain, dark and red.
Turned the stone and looked beneath it...
"Peace on Earth" was all it said.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.

Posted in L y r i c s;;

-{S e p t e m b e r ; 3 0 th}-

Its cold;;Oh sweet cool air..

droplets of ice fall from here..

Fall from there..;

Sing to me, Sweet September mist;

Frosty coolness;

{A soft kiss}

How joyous the weather today..

Touch thy check.. and away;

of this hour;

of the day..

{Hold me close}

Oh, sweet solemn virtue ;

I'm nearly close enough, To touch you..

Oh sweet sweet September air..

Posted in Poetry