I went to work for her that summer
A teenage kid so far from home
She was a lonely widow woman
Hell-bent to make it on her own
We were a thousand miles from nowhere
Wheat fields as far as I could see
Both needing something from each other
Not knowing yet what that might be

'Til she came to me one evening
Hot cup of coffee and a smile
In a dress that I was certain
She hadn't worn in quite a while
There was a difference in her laughter
There was a softness in her eyes
And on the air there was a hunger
Even a boy could recognize

That summer wind was all around me
Nothin' between us but the night
When I told her that I'd never
She softly whispered that's alright
And then I watched her hands of leather
Turn to velvet in a touch
There's never been another summer
When I have ever learned so much

We had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in each other's eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushin' headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burnin' both ends of the night

I often think about that summer
The sweat the moonlight and the lace
And I have rarely held another
When I haven't seen her face
And every time I pass a wheat field
And watch it dancing with the wind
Although I know it isn't real
I just can't help but feel
Her hungry arms again

Garth Brooks - "That Summer"

He dribbles.

Night falls and I'm alone
Skin, yeah chill me to the bone
You... turned and you ran
oh, slipped, right from my hand

Blue on Black, tears on a river
Push on a shove, it don't mean much
Joker on Jack
Match on a fire
Cold on ice
a dead man's touch
Whisper on a scream
It doesn't change a thing, won't bring you back
Blue on Black

I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy, but I can't stop listening to the sound of two soft voices rendered in perfection, from the reels of this record that I have found. Everyday there's a boy in the mirror asking me: "What are you doing here?" Finding all of my previous motives growing increasingly unclear. I've travelled far and I've burned all the bridges- I believe as soon as I hit land- all the other options held before me, would wither in the light of my plan. So I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy, but there's only one thing on my mind- searching boxes underneath the counter, on a chance that on a tape I'd find: A song for someone who needs somewhere to long for. Homesick. Because I no longer know where home is.

~Kings of Convenience~

It's the same damn thing again.

More Garbage to throw in.

[EDIT] Hmm. Its funny how a misdirected comment turns things into mindless banter. I understand what it means to produce commerical art, I understand and see that other artists are not appreciated, I understand and appreciate the input I already recieve nor was it some stupid cry to recieve more. It was a simple statment that the trend on this art forum is to replicate photos to recieve a particular mass attention and THAT WAS ALL. I already recieve input. People tell me what I need to hear already. You do not need to preach to me; calling me names and other things does not help the fact that I have an opinion. If you have a real problem with me, take it into private. PM me. I'm sure a gaggle of you enjoy arguing in Oekaki submission comments, but this isn't the place for them. I discourage further commenting on the 'subject' herin.

just the scene...

it`s a monkey yawning....

las ilusiones que solo son ilusiones