I sing 'When we two parted', a poem by Lord Byron:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sNN6DVDinZc&lc=Ugy7SgUq2nNYx_KCzlp4AaABAg

“Imusttalktoyouthisway, becauseyoudon’tunderstand - I’mdrawingaline - Iamsorryifithurts, Idon’tliketoblockpeoplefrommylife, youdon’tunderstand - Iwantnomorediscussiononthis. Ithoughtyoupreferstraight-talkbutyoudon’tunderstand...”     Shh shh shh. I adore your broken grammar sweetheart, but let’s admit I gently correct it all in my head. I am no stuffed animal - you can’t keep me. I stroll down the museum at dawn, so shoot me out or let me be. This love is a strange tide, isn’t it? It washes up this side, that side - every side we hide It lifts our spirit high High, high, high, high very high it lifts our spirit, and hurts our pride. Yea, hurts. Let the experts bleed There’s much, too much greed - Toomuch muchmuch muchmuch Ugh. Ah, you know what you want! OK. But who knows what you need? I look for a sign of life A glint of the eye The moon wanes heaving dead shadows A night rolls by - Fuck! That wildcat  kind of turned inside her case just now, did you see? Did you see my wildcat... Wi

Celui qui pense haut à soi doit aller au cimetière. Il y verra que la vie n’est qu’une poigneé de terre.     © Mukta Asnikar   Click here to listen to the musical rendition!