All around me darkness gathers,
Fading is the sun that shone;
We must speak of other matters:
You can be me when I'm gone
Flowers gathered in the evening,
Afternoon they blossom on;
Still are withered by the evening:
You can be me when I'm gone.
DELIRIUM: What's the name of the word for the precise moment when you realize that you've actually forgotten how it felt to make love to somebody you really liked a long time ago?
MORPHEUS: There isn't one.
Sunday, 14 January 2007
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