domingo, 17 de febrero de 2008

Through the land

05 septiembre 2007

Through the land

I cannot find it. It's nowhere. It has dissapeared, vanished in the air.
Where is it? Where is my spirit? My will? Did I spent it all the last time so there's nothing left?
Excuses brother, excuses. Remember what you want! It is on your hand.
A year? Or more?
Yours is the choice. Don't blame on anyone else.
C'mon!
Always, no, sometimes I think it's me.
--Strawberry Fields Forever, The Beatles
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