Day after day, alone on the hill,
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still.
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a fool.
And he never gives an answer .....
But the fool on the hill,
Sees the sun going down.
And the eyes in his head,
See the world spinning around.
Well on his way, his head in a cloud,
The man of a thousand voices,
talking perfectly loud.
But nobody ever hears him,
Or the sound he appears to make.
And he never seems to notice .....
But the fool on the hill,
Sees the sun going down.
And the eyes in his head,
See the world spinning around.
And nobody seems to like him,
They can tell what he wants to do.
And he never shows his feelings,
But the fool on the hill,
Sees the sun going down.
And the eyes in his head,
See the world spinning around.
Prvo mrzlo jutro po dolgem času. Območje, ko mi nosnice razširi vonj bližajoče se zime. Časa, ko preklopim misli in dejanja na sever, na Aljasko. V meni je ogenj, ki ga obvladujeta le mraz in samota. Pet let gori, opleta s plameni v srce in misli. In danes, v tem hladnem jutru opažam, da letos njegova moč ni več tako močna, izrazita.
Zmeden sem. Je znak ali le zatišje pred izbruhom?
