There is a temperate zone in the mind, between luxurious indolence and exacting work; and it is to this region, just between laziness and labor, that summer reading belongs.
Henry Ward Beecher
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Biên tập viên
Fools
I'm crying I'm dying
I can see what's wrong with me
It's in my head
I can see what's gonna be
As I lie in my bed
Man is not my brotherhood
I am of the dead
I died as I lived as I loved and was born
On some distant hill
The reasons to hide were the reasons I cried
Fools pass laughing still
There can be bad blood in all I can see
It's in my brain
You don't know the pain I feel
As I must live again
Rocks and stones can't bruise my soul but
Tears will leave a stain
They smile to themselves as they lay down my head
On some distant hill
The blind and the child sweep a tear from their eye
Fools smile as they kill
I got my own way to go and now I want
To take your minds
I believe if you could see
The blood between the lines
I believe that you could be
A better kind
Please lead the way so the unborn can play
On some greener hill
Laugh as the flames eat their burning remains
Fools die laughing still