man paid dues and came out the other end
but it ain’t ordinarily so.
Hell, those tragic sort that have lost hope, they play out the string until it no longer becomes viable, scream against the dying of the light, and go miserably into their final reward thinking they never amounted to anything and no one ever quite understood exactly how they felt about things. Untold numbers of people live their lives out alone.
How sad. Simply an atrocity.
Rarely, occasionally, one is presented an opportunity to influence the world in a fashion that carries out the wishes and passionate desires, hopes, aspirations and all manner of having desperately held forth a brief moment of happy little life of someone already gone. When the possibility begins to exist that the admonitions, written explicitly or vaguely imagined, from those already dead have a kernel of potential to become what the decedent wanted, well, it is magical.
Legacy. Our Legacy.
check it tho’
“Less Than Zero” was a song I had written after seeing the despicable
Oswald Mosley being interviewed on BBC television.
The former leader of the British Union of Fascists seemed unrepentant about his poisonous actions of the 1930s. The song was more slandering fantasy than reasoned argument.
teach him he’s alive before he wishes he was dead