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lirik lagu james parm - the lost art of living

there is a voice in my head concerned with the fate of the world. the children of grey skies are mounted high above the clouds in ricochet~mountaineer~getups awaiting the fall of the world. i am one of these children. we can see for miles and miles, the plains of the great devoured lakes stretch far beyond the eyes of narrow~sighters. into the depths of еmotion one stifles the forgеs of creation, endeavouring the resuscitate the lost are of living. murderous crows perched perplexingly on great sheets of ice, the scattered remnants of distorted oblivion. my courage to break free from death is witnessed only by the silent winds of the north, whose voices echo the fate of the world. the void began a million p~rs~cs from the edge of the infinitum, a great microbe spoke of the ensuing destruction to his fellow microbians, “behold, the edge of nowhere is approaching, the last days of life will crumble in the fall of the world. death is the bringer of nothingness, the nothing that will become the world”. when the void spread and encompassed the entirety of the earth, the sh~lls of man were shed. a relieving of physical attribu~tation let rise the sky~beings of now. the cloud fortresses hold strong the remaining energy forms of the human race. we scatter our dead like fallen leaves as the inversion of life has made break the natural order of transients. we now move from ethereal to solid, and the dead fall towards the earth, towards the nothingness below. what say you of the gods above? what say you of these beings almighty who neglect, who foster not our care, who nurture not our wounded, our broken men? i speak on behalf of no one and no one speaks on behalf of me. i take part in games, no races, no times, no places, no if’s but’s comma’s sp~ces writing literealis statickanesous: the philosophical diseasus. i take part in no arrows or bows, or teardrops or rainclouds. i take part in no earth, air, fire or despair. my children number in the infinitum for i claim to borders, i claim no un~allegiance. i am a being of no being, i am product of the void, i am a product of evolution, i am the result of the great change, i am the invisible man
many years ago the earth was a very different place, indeed. the trucks moved like trucks, the cars like cars, the planes like planes, and the people walked and stepped across the concrete jumbles to extricate their time in ways fit for an insect, a swine. many years ago the tubes ran in circles and the currents held the hopes of electrical impulse men forgetting themselves on their way to school and work and bars and social events, and forgetting along the way that the tubes ran in circles and that they were truly getting nowhere. the nowhere proceeded the nothingness, it laid the groundwork for the void. the men and women and children went into their no~sp~ces to learn of nothing and speak of nothing to each other. the nothingness in their voices, in their minds, laid the ground work for the void. the basketball players and football players and baseball players fought fervently in futility for a meaninglessness which could only have taken meaning in a world without, and so also laid the groundwork for the ensuing void. i was young then, perhaps i was already dead then see, death was life and you could hear it on the radio, on the television, in the comedy and paltry of the times. you see, nothing sold very well, nothing was the rage, nothing was trending without ending, and it laid the groundwork for the void. in most children there is too much something, ones job was to make that something into nothing, and the tubes which ran trains, and the trains which ran people, and the people which ran corporations, and the corporations which ran electrical currents all helped in fostering the proper development of the something child into the nothing child. it was very important to become nothing as soon as possible; nothing was celebrated, nothing made sense. and nothing could have predicted the great change, the emergence of a strange temporal anomaly; an infinitum of un~being. first beknownst to the microbes, first beknownst to the wolves and sheep, lastly to the shepherds, to leader ones; self~ appointed, mad, broken things. there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop. there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop.there was supposed to be a lot to this but at some point you just have to stop
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- lirik lagu james parm

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