Har denna fredagskväll börjat lyssna på Swans.

Rekommenderar en youtube-/spotifysökning.

Får ångest av att skriva här.

Över min originalblogg, alltså.

Den förtjänar bättre än så här.

Och jag har aldrig svikit den värre förut.

When, when we were young
We had no history
So nothing to lose
Meant we could choose
Choose what we wanted then
Without any fear
Or thought of revenge

Oh worries are about and heavy on his gut
He feels he's being punished for the bad things he has done
Help him Jesus, help him, send him down a sign'
Cause he feel's he is getting old before his time

And so he moves towards his sweet redeeming light
Shadows cast but none obscure his sight
And they wonder where he is going while he is knelt before her throat
Refusing to go down without a fight