Hitana
Joined: 10 Nov 2006
Posts: 307
Location: berlin, germany
I say Little Red Quabette
U're much 2 fast (Oh!)
Little Red Quabette
U need a kick that's gonna last!
.............................................
Hello Kadish, my old foe
I've come to talk to you again
Because a mist softly creeping
Left its ning tree while I was sleeping
And a mist, that was planted in my brain
Still remains
within the sound of spinning
In restless dreams I walked alone
Through narrow backgrounds of no real stone
Beneath a halo of a breaking tree
I turned my collar to the grey and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a blue lighting
That split the misting
and touched the sound of spinning
And in the naked light I saw
Tenthousand quabbies, maybe more
Quabbies scooting without moving
Quabbies sating without eating
Quabbies doing suicidal jumps, that we never shared
No one dared
disturb the sound of spinning
Fools, said I, you do not know
Spinning like a ning tree grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
But my words like silent tree flakes fell
And echoed
in the wells of spinning
And the quabbies bowed and prayed
To the stony god they made
And the statue flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the statue said, the words of the grower
are written on the cavern walls
And Bahro halls,
whispered
in the sound of spinning
U're much 2 fast (Oh!)
Little Red Quabette
U need a kick that's gonna last!
.............................................
Hello Kadish, my old foe
I've come to talk to you again
Because a mist softly creeping
Left its ning tree while I was sleeping
And a mist, that was planted in my brain
Still remains
within the sound of spinning
In restless dreams I walked alone
Through narrow backgrounds of no real stone
Beneath a halo of a breaking tree
I turned my collar to the grey and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a blue lighting
That split the misting
and touched the sound of spinning
And in the naked light I saw
Tenthousand quabbies, maybe more
Quabbies scooting without moving
Quabbies sating without eating
Quabbies doing suicidal jumps, that we never shared
No one dared
disturb the sound of spinning
Fools, said I, you do not know
Spinning like a ning tree grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
But my words like silent tree flakes fell
And echoed
in the wells of spinning
And the quabbies bowed and prayed
To the stony god they made
And the statue flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the statue said, the words of the grower
are written on the cavern walls
And Bahro halls,
whispered
in the sound of spinning
_________________
Whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open.
Hitana Jadurian (GW)


