Sofiul Azam - A Breeze of Wingèd III lyrics

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Sofiul Azam - A Breeze of Wingèd III lyrics

Glancing at the skyline of any metropolis, one says: this ain't the age of visionaries but of skyscraper architects; a few machines do the work of a thousand ordinary blokes. sh**! they all can't do much as notables can in a minute. I warn you against such nonsense scientifically arrayed. Yes, I'm on the way from anarchy to order and grace ­ an everyday struggle of my acquaintance. I remember one who says: no compa**ion is ever wasted, it never fails; we learn it, and for love only, shall die on the cross of matter. Is there none who builds grace as tall as a skyscraper? I think life is just a series of snaps taken for love only. an interpretation of the real; it's a trace like a footprint. And now for something slightly different, yes, I remember the day I butchered grief the beast after long struggle, blended stones and cement into compost to bury it, the very next minute the dead burst out of the grave. As I was just on the look-out for weird clues, I found myself ‘destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked'. Can I ask the pros who it is that breathed life into that? I can't even answer you in two words, ‘not possible'. Oops! why should plebeians think pictures are enough, and a verbal scrutiny is worth the paper it is written on? Gentlemen, exclude me; that's the way with the academics: this tangle of your nerves only a neurologist can untie. why should all loudmouths tail off to be quite taciturn? Grace or love ain't a capsule one finds at a druggist's; yes, packing all these off to hell for the burning lessons, I have worshipped the grievous and the ugly for years too ­ a mere legacy of their fostering I find over the centuries speeding up our trip to an infernal sludgy dungeon. One winter night I marked anarchy as a porcupine: only beneath my blanket did I realise how grievous it was. ‘Heroing is one shortest-lived profession there is, ' I read on, in a voice that thrills all my nerves more than a scream. Well, don't stew: it proves what fortuity folks denote.

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