(no subject)
the last thing i want is burned bridges. i am not a free man, just like you. i want to be, but just like the rest, i don't have the guts yet. freedom is the acceptance of death and pain, and the mind to roll with it. freedom is the absence of a need to be comfortable. freedom walks on, and takes it all in for what it is. but just like you, i dont really know a damn thing.
I like to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet,
But guarding fumes and making haste,
It ain't my cup of meat.
Ev'rybody's just standing 'round 'neath the trees,
Feeding pigeons on a limb
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
them pigeons'll go to him.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.
I like to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet,
But guarding fumes and making haste,
It ain't my cup of meat.
Ev'rybody's just standing 'round 'neath the trees,
Feeding pigeons on a limb
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
them pigeons'll go to him.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.