scrophularia

This is the story of a young man, traveling ancient country sides looking for new emotions to experience. Looking to give more than to get, and understanding the notion that nothing is really giving to you aside than the very air that you breath but things have changed you know, things it rapidly becoming very different that they once were. (Beats and Blips, Drums) On a south bound train, seems to eat thru to the german country side, like a bittersaw thru wood, like a hammer, breaking thru old bones. My reflection is an alternative from the circus mirrors and smoke to frame glass, preparing to separate my interior royalty from the dangers of the outside, those things I do not, quite, understand. I can see handsome color city kids influenced in colorful accents dancing across the foundation of formal communist factories saying to me that "i've been before" just by this railway being my virgin transporter into this 'oh so far place', choping thru the world I come to understand is like a lions teeth thru the ribs of a gazelle on the hunt. And when we reach to the guard. I bellieve im a man of different thinking my energy repunished in each stop between Hamburg and Munich visions of good times, Tomas man immortalized by the artistic politics of Iron courtains falling certain as rain. Great vines growing rooted from the lips of the rhyme saying 'this particular world that im traveling thru is much older than the world I call my world'. Today im the gun powder in the continental bullet, a cell in this electric brain crossing thru the black forrest. My destination just beyond the trees. A relativily young man traveling ancient country sides and new fangle sidewalk technology looking to give more than to get, and understanding the notion that nothing is giving to you but the air you breath and the trees that hide my destination resemble loose hairs of the head of an old gentleman from a far, this mountains proecting villages and colonies like a moth and circuling castles of following leaders rufflin' out and north of the Munich skylite. This trip is very different that any other I've been before. I wish I can transmit this experience thru american urban radio and whore house shopping malls, to wall street executives and staying home moms and the bible book just to say 'hey look at the world and get off your block, pick up a book, stop watching the clock', there is so much some more to learn than trees and monolingual grades to be sure. This ride is especial, this country side is ancient and many of these things I do not understand, but I feel like I've been here before. This ride, the toughts that come with it, tell me to cherish life now cause the only real gift really given to you is the present, the only real gift given to you is right now.