Tingling cheeks and finger-tips

Each glow-worm winks her spark

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I waited for the light to come
to change my life, to change my life
But I am blind, my faith is gone
I’m finding out the good book was wrong

And I must face
that I won’t be saved

We’re destined to all die alone
I buried my cross with a rose
I won’t kneel at your alter now that I know
It’s a table for a magic show

I’m getting up from off my knees
the guilt is gone and I can finally breathe
But there is not a plan for me
You’re making my tired ears bleed

And you can pray
But I won’t be saved

We’re destined to all die alone
I buried my cross with a rose
I won’t kneel at your alter now that I know
It’s a table for a magic show

Filed under finger tattoos

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Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know, she’s half crazy

It’s why you want to be there
She feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China

And just when you mean to tell her
You have no love to give her
She gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
You’ve always been her lover

And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And know she will trust you
For you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind

Jesus was a sailor
When He walked upon the water
And He spent a long time watching
From His lonely wooden tower

And when He knew for certain
Only drowning men could see Him
He said,”All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them”

But He, Himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone

And you want to travel with him
You want to travel blind
And you know he will find you
For he’s touched your perfect body with his mind

Suzanne takes your hand now
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters

And the sun pours down like honey
On our, our lady of the harbor
She shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers

There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror

And you want to travel with her
You want to travel blind
And you know she’ll find you
For she’s touched your perfect body with her mind

Leonard Cohen

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“Stay with me, my Kitteh, when you leave me,’ the staying child said. Then, in the distance, the departing Kitteh turned into a small evening glow; then into a little evening star; then, further into the garden, into merely a shimmer of the moon without the moon; and, finally, further and further into the distance, it faded into the tone of a flute or a philomela.”

Jean Paul Flegeljahre - sort of.