CAN - Album Tago Mago
Track2: Mushroom http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Me6BdB-qWvI
(was hab ich mir in meiner Jugend auf diesem Album die Rübe weggekifft etc..)
When I saw a mushroom head, when I saw a mushroom head
When I saw a mushroom head I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead
When I saw a mushroom head, when I saw a mushroom head
When I saw a mushroom head I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead
I'm gonna give my despair, I'm gonna give my despair
I'm gonna give my despair
Uh-ow, uh-ow, uh-uh-ow, uh-ow
Uh-ow, uh-ow, uh-ow, uh-ow, uh-ow, uh-ow, uh-ow
When I saw skies of red, when I saw skies of red
When I saw skies of red I was born and I was
I was born and I was dead, I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead, I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead, I was born and I was dead
When I saw a mushroom head, when I saw a mushroom head
When I saw a mushroom head I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead
I'm gonna give my despair, I'm gonna give my despair
I'm gonna give my despair, I'm gonna give my despair
When I saw a mushroom head, when I saw a mushroom head
When I saw a mushroom head I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead, I was born and I was dead
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead
oder gleiches Album, Halleluhwah: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4GCwW2p ... re=related
Did everybody see this snowman
Standing in the wind alone?
When mother did that, pick his head
And you're feeling sleepy at
It's my recording, stitch remain
But I record in his head
Knowing that too big mouth
Oh, ice can flow away, no one knows
Oh, shadow coming out
While I call the story, storey that
Oh, sample all about
Spinning that all the time
My powers strike me out
Did I slip this thing on their life?
And my God buying out
Oh, it gets me inside
Searching for my brother, yes, I am
Searching for my brother, yes, I am
Searching for my brother, yes, I am
Searching for my brother, yes, I am
Did you see the day?
Every fever may I search in
We can find now harder steam
Change his kind, fly away
Oh
They're all alone there, let me in
Oh, she asked me the first day
For my name
So she wasn't going where I was singing
Mushroom head, oh yeah, paperhouse
I went day, first the game
It wasn't a game after this
Oh, shadow coming out
While I call the story, storey that
Oh, it's all about
Spinning that all the time
Shoot all the proof and lust and shout and it's all, just you sow
Shoot all the proof and lust and shout and it's all, just you sow
Shoot all the proof and lust and shout and it's all, just you sow
Shoot all the proof and lust and shout and it's all, just you sow
Searching for my brother
Searching for my brother, let him, let him, let him up
Searching for my brother, let him, let him, let him up
Searching for my brother, let him, let him, let him up
Searching for my brother, let him, let him, let him up
Lalalalalalalalalala, let him up
Lalalalalalalalalala, let him up
Lalalalalalalalalala, let him up
Lalalalalalalalalala, let him up
Ash you
And the hills are blue
And she's so
Got my fever, why do I go?
Got my fever, why do I go?
Got your soles into your shoes
Got my fever, why do I go?
Got my fever, why do I go?
/edit: ein hab ich noch
Mercury Rev - Album: Yerself is Steam (läuft hier gerade als CD, auf Youtube gibts das nicht o. nur schlecht live), die ganze CD ist völlig durch, ich würds mal als das psychedlischte Album dieser Zeit nennen, sehr geniales Zeug!
Mercury Rev - Chasing a Bee miese YT-Quali: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPQp_7U_4KQ
Those seducers [4x]
bombed out lovers, gallant red flocks of mellow seducers, fine eager seekers, deep deef down
beautiful lines from above and we're all a-glow
raise her head and things get warm, hold on to its leg, before it flies away
sun lit walks, I feel no harm, my primitive words match my primitive heart
it's not as easy as it may seem, remember that yourself is steam
and of course it don't mind, chasing a bee inside a jar
and of course it don't mind, chasing a bee inside a jar
Then like sheep led to sacrifial slaughter, they don't mind, but they oughta, all the time (they oughta)
their pretty shells are so inviting, well protected
their eyes are rivers, they give me shivers
it's not time for the real life sign, it's not time for these fears of mine [x2]
I'm feeling troubled, I'm feeling trapped, can't shake that bubble off my back
it's not as easy as it may seem, remember that yourself is steam [x2]
it's not time for the real life sign, it's not time for these fears of mine
I'm feeling troubled, I'm feeling trapped, can't shake that bubble off my back
I feel no harm, I feel no harm, ...feel no harm
its not as easy as it may seem, remember that yourself is steam
what once was lost will never be found, keep spinning in circles until you break new ground
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
77und zu weihnachten eine therapiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie >>> get funkiiiiiiiiiie:
http://youtu.be/9TRtb4Lxc_Y
http://youtu.be/9TRtb4Lxc_Y
dios ha muerto
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
78Theodor Fontane (1819-1898)
Glaube an die Welt
Laß ab von diesem Zweifeln, Klauben,
vor dem das Beste selbst zerfällt,
und wahre dir den vollen Glauben
an dieser Welt trotz dieser Welt.
Schau hin auf eines Weibes Züge,
das lächelnd auf den Säugling blickt,
und fühl’s: es ist nicht alles Lüge,
was uns das Leben bringt und schickt.
Und, Herze, willst du ganz genesen,
sei selber wahr, sei selber rein!
Was wir in Welt und Menschen lesen,
ist nur der eigene Widerschein.
Beutst du dem Geiste seine Nahrung,
so laß nicht darben sein Gemüt,
des Lebens höchste Offenbarung
doch immer aus dem Herzen blüht.
Ein Gruß aus frischer Knabenkehle,
ja mehr noch eines Kindes Lall’n
kann leuchtender in deine Seele
wie Weisheit aller Weisen fall’n.
Erst unter Kuß und Spiel und Scherzen
erkennst du ganz, was Leben heißt;
o lerne denken mit dem Herzen,
und lerne fühlen mit dem Geist.
Glaube an die Welt
Laß ab von diesem Zweifeln, Klauben,
vor dem das Beste selbst zerfällt,
und wahre dir den vollen Glauben
an dieser Welt trotz dieser Welt.
Schau hin auf eines Weibes Züge,
das lächelnd auf den Säugling blickt,
und fühl’s: es ist nicht alles Lüge,
was uns das Leben bringt und schickt.
Und, Herze, willst du ganz genesen,
sei selber wahr, sei selber rein!
Was wir in Welt und Menschen lesen,
ist nur der eigene Widerschein.
Beutst du dem Geiste seine Nahrung,
so laß nicht darben sein Gemüt,
des Lebens höchste Offenbarung
doch immer aus dem Herzen blüht.
Ein Gruß aus frischer Knabenkehle,
ja mehr noch eines Kindes Lall’n
kann leuchtender in deine Seele
wie Weisheit aller Weisen fall’n.
Erst unter Kuß und Spiel und Scherzen
erkennst du ganz, was Leben heißt;
o lerne denken mit dem Herzen,
und lerne fühlen mit dem Geist.
~ Resting in Peace ~
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
79[Kid:] Next motherfucker's gonna get my metal
On we plow
The big bully try to stick his finger in my chest
Try to tell me, tell me he's the best
But I don't really give a good goddamn cause
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
I wanna be
So no one fucks with me
I got the pencils in my pocket, try to put me down
Wanna go out, gotta get out
To the playground, gonna throw down at the playground
I wanna go out
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker
Pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
So no one fucks with me
lunchbox - marilyn manson
On we plow
The big bully try to stick his finger in my chest
Try to tell me, tell me he's the best
But I don't really give a good goddamn cause
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
I wanna be
So no one fucks with me
I got the pencils in my pocket, try to put me down
Wanna go out, gotta get out
To the playground, gonna throw down at the playground
I wanna go out
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker
Pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
So no one fucks with me
lunchbox - marilyn manson
now i am become death, destroyer of worlds.
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
82Dieser Kompost
I
Etwas erschreckt mich, wo ich mich am Sichersten glaubte,
Ich meide die stillen Wälder, die ich so liebte,
Ich werde nicht länger durchs Weideland streichen,
Ich werde nicht mehr meine Kleider abstreifen, meine Liebste zu treffen, die See,
Ich werde mein Fleisch zur Erde nicht legen, wie aufs Fleisch einer andern, um mich zu erneuern.
O wie kann es sein, dass der Boden selbst nicht erkrankt?
Wie könnt ihr lebendig sein, Frühlingsgewächse?
Wie könnt ihr gesund machen, ihr Säfte von Kräutern und Wurzeln, Getreide und Obst?
Werden nicht ständig verseuchte Leichen in dich gelegt?
Ist nicht jeder Erdteil durchwalkt und durchknetet mit bitterem Tod?
Wo hast du nur all die Kadaver gelassen?
Diese Säufer und Fresser unzähliger Generationen?
Wo lagerst du ab all die faulige Lymphe, das Fleisch?
Doch kann ich zur Zeit auf dir gar nichts entdecken, werde vielleicht getäuscht,
Ich will mit dem Pflug eine Furche ziehen, ich will mit dem Spaten die Grasnarbe öffnen, um sie von unten nach oben zu kehren,
Und sicherlich werd ich manch fauliges Fleischstück entdecken.
II
Seht diesen Kompost! betrachtet ihn gut!
Jegliches Würmchen war vielleicht einmal Teil eines Kranken – seht hin!
Das Frühlingsgras wuchert auf den Prairien,
Die Bohne bricht lautlos durch die Gartenerde,
Der leckere Speer der Zwiebel stößt aufwärts,
Die Apfelblüten rotten sich auf den Apfelzweigen zusammen,
Die Auferstehung des Weizens erscheint bleichgesichtig aus seinen Gräbern,
Die Färbung erwacht über Weiden und Maulbeerbäumen,
Die Vogelmännchen zwitschern morgens und abends, während die Vogelweibchen auf ihren Nestern sitzen,
Die Küken des Geflügels picken sich aus den bebrüteten Eiern,
Die neugeborenen Tiere erscheinen, die Kuh wirft das Kalb, die Stute das Fohlen,
Aus ihren kleinen Hügeln steigen zuversichtlich der Kartoffeln dunkelgrüne Blätter,
Aus seinen Hügeln steigt der gelbe Maisstengel, der Flieder blüht in den Vorgärten,
Das Grünen des Sommers steht arglos, verächtlich über all diesen Schichten bitteren Todes.
Welch eine Chemie!
Dass die Winde uns tatsächlich nicht infizieren,
Dass das kein Betrug ist, diese transparente grüne Spülung der See, die mir so liebevoll folgt,
Dass es gefahrlos ist, sie meinen nackten Körper mit ihren Zungen allüberall belecken zu lassen,
Dass sie mich nicht in Gefahr bringt mit jenen Fiebern, die sich in ihr angereichert haben,
Dass alles so rein bleibt auf immer und ewig,
Dass das kühle Getränk der Brunnen so gut schmeckt,
Dass die Brombeeren saftig und wohlschmeckend sind,
Dass die Früchte der Apfelgärten und der Orangengärten, dass Melonen, Trauben, Pfirsiche, Pflaumen, dass keines davon mich vergiften wird,
Dass ich, im Gras ausgestreckt, keinerlei Krankheit bekomme,
Obwohl jeder Grashalm wahrscheinlich entsteigt aus einer Erkrankung, die ansteckend war.
Jetzt bin ich verängstigt an der Erde, die ruhig ist, und geduldig,
Sie lässt solch süße Dinge aus solcher Verwesung erwachsen,
Dreht sich harmlos und rostfrei um ihre Achse, mit endlosen Abfolgen kränkelnder Körper,
Sie gewinnt solch ausgezeichnete Winde aus solchem verströmten Pesthauch,
Sie erneuert mit solch harmlosem Anschein ihre verschwenderischen, jährlichen, üppigen Früchte,
Sie überlässt solch göttliche Stoffe den Menschen, und nimmt solche Rückstände letztlich von ihnen zurück.
übertragen aus dem englischen...
I
Etwas erschreckt mich, wo ich mich am Sichersten glaubte,
Ich meide die stillen Wälder, die ich so liebte,
Ich werde nicht länger durchs Weideland streichen,
Ich werde nicht mehr meine Kleider abstreifen, meine Liebste zu treffen, die See,
Ich werde mein Fleisch zur Erde nicht legen, wie aufs Fleisch einer andern, um mich zu erneuern.
O wie kann es sein, dass der Boden selbst nicht erkrankt?
Wie könnt ihr lebendig sein, Frühlingsgewächse?
Wie könnt ihr gesund machen, ihr Säfte von Kräutern und Wurzeln, Getreide und Obst?
Werden nicht ständig verseuchte Leichen in dich gelegt?
Ist nicht jeder Erdteil durchwalkt und durchknetet mit bitterem Tod?
Wo hast du nur all die Kadaver gelassen?
Diese Säufer und Fresser unzähliger Generationen?
Wo lagerst du ab all die faulige Lymphe, das Fleisch?
Doch kann ich zur Zeit auf dir gar nichts entdecken, werde vielleicht getäuscht,
Ich will mit dem Pflug eine Furche ziehen, ich will mit dem Spaten die Grasnarbe öffnen, um sie von unten nach oben zu kehren,
Und sicherlich werd ich manch fauliges Fleischstück entdecken.
II
Seht diesen Kompost! betrachtet ihn gut!
Jegliches Würmchen war vielleicht einmal Teil eines Kranken – seht hin!
Das Frühlingsgras wuchert auf den Prairien,
Die Bohne bricht lautlos durch die Gartenerde,
Der leckere Speer der Zwiebel stößt aufwärts,
Die Apfelblüten rotten sich auf den Apfelzweigen zusammen,
Die Auferstehung des Weizens erscheint bleichgesichtig aus seinen Gräbern,
Die Färbung erwacht über Weiden und Maulbeerbäumen,
Die Vogelmännchen zwitschern morgens und abends, während die Vogelweibchen auf ihren Nestern sitzen,
Die Küken des Geflügels picken sich aus den bebrüteten Eiern,
Die neugeborenen Tiere erscheinen, die Kuh wirft das Kalb, die Stute das Fohlen,
Aus ihren kleinen Hügeln steigen zuversichtlich der Kartoffeln dunkelgrüne Blätter,
Aus seinen Hügeln steigt der gelbe Maisstengel, der Flieder blüht in den Vorgärten,
Das Grünen des Sommers steht arglos, verächtlich über all diesen Schichten bitteren Todes.
Welch eine Chemie!
Dass die Winde uns tatsächlich nicht infizieren,
Dass das kein Betrug ist, diese transparente grüne Spülung der See, die mir so liebevoll folgt,
Dass es gefahrlos ist, sie meinen nackten Körper mit ihren Zungen allüberall belecken zu lassen,
Dass sie mich nicht in Gefahr bringt mit jenen Fiebern, die sich in ihr angereichert haben,
Dass alles so rein bleibt auf immer und ewig,
Dass das kühle Getränk der Brunnen so gut schmeckt,
Dass die Brombeeren saftig und wohlschmeckend sind,
Dass die Früchte der Apfelgärten und der Orangengärten, dass Melonen, Trauben, Pfirsiche, Pflaumen, dass keines davon mich vergiften wird,
Dass ich, im Gras ausgestreckt, keinerlei Krankheit bekomme,
Obwohl jeder Grashalm wahrscheinlich entsteigt aus einer Erkrankung, die ansteckend war.
Jetzt bin ich verängstigt an der Erde, die ruhig ist, und geduldig,
Sie lässt solch süße Dinge aus solcher Verwesung erwachsen,
Dreht sich harmlos und rostfrei um ihre Achse, mit endlosen Abfolgen kränkelnder Körper,
Sie gewinnt solch ausgezeichnete Winde aus solchem verströmten Pesthauch,
Sie erneuert mit solch harmlosem Anschein ihre verschwenderischen, jährlichen, üppigen Früchte,
Sie überlässt solch göttliche Stoffe den Menschen, und nimmt solche Rückstände letztlich von ihnen zurück.
übertragen aus dem englischen...
dios ha muerto
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
83Absolut.Loco-Motive hat geschrieben:epochalSlider hat geschrieben:Luzmila Carpio - Presagio de los pájaros
happiness is the absence of resistance
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
84Hm, da fängt man an bei And all that you've ever learned, try to forget // I'll never explain again, fühlt sich erinnert an My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God und endet bei Trust me // Trust me // Trust me // Trust me // Trust me.
Die 90er waren schon gut. Gleich nach den 80ern.
Die 90er waren schon gut. Gleich nach den 80ern.
~~ courage ~ compassion ~ connection ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ vulnerability ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Γνῶθι σεαυτόν ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ vulnerability ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Γνῶθι σεαυτόν ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
86Simon and Garfunkel - The Boxer
I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Lie la lie...
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Now the years are rolling by me
They are rocking evenly
I am older than I once was
But younger than I'll be
That's not unusual
No, it isn't strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same
Lie la lie...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me,
Leading me, going home.
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains
Yes, he still remains
Lie la lie...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-hqdZ4AWSaI
I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Lie la lie...
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Now the years are rolling by me
They are rocking evenly
I am older than I once was
But younger than I'll be
That's not unusual
No, it isn't strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same
Lie la lie...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me,
Leading me, going home.
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains
Yes, he still remains
Lie la lie...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-hqdZ4AWSaI
~~ courage ~ compassion ~ connection ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ vulnerability ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Γνῶθι σεαυτόν ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ vulnerability ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Γνῶθι σεαυτόν ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
87out of the blue, into the black
they gave you this, but did you pay for that?
once you´re gone
you can´t come back
(when you`re)
out of the blue, into the black.
hey hey, my my, rock n roll will never die.
neil young.
they gave you this, but did you pay for that?
once you´re gone
you can´t come back
(when you`re)
out of the blue, into the black.
hey hey, my my, rock n roll will never die.
neil young.
now i am become death, destroyer of worlds.
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
88In the temple of love you hide together
Believing pain and fear outside
But someone near you rides the weather
And the tears he cried will rain on walls
As wide as lovers eyes
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear my calling
In the temple of love: hear my name
With the sunlight died and night above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another it's all the same
For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside
With the fire from the fireworks up above
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain
You run for cover in the temple of love
I shine like thunder cry like rain
And the temple of love grows old and strong
But the wind blows longer cold and long
And the temple of love will fall before
This black wind calls my name to you no more
In the black sky thunder sweeping
Underground and over water
Sounds of crying weeping will not save
Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave
When stone is dust and only air remains
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear the calling
And the temple of love is falling
Down
Sisters Of Mercy - The Temple Of Love ('92) <3
(+ Extended Version)
Believing pain and fear outside
But someone near you rides the weather
And the tears he cried will rain on walls
As wide as lovers eyes
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear my calling
In the temple of love: hear my name
With the sunlight died and night above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another it's all the same
For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside
With the fire from the fireworks up above
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain
You run for cover in the temple of love
I shine like thunder cry like rain
And the temple of love grows old and strong
But the wind blows longer cold and long
And the temple of love will fall before
This black wind calls my name to you no more
In the black sky thunder sweeping
Underground and over water
Sounds of crying weeping will not save
Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave
When stone is dust and only air remains
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear the calling
And the temple of love is falling
Down
Sisters Of Mercy - The Temple Of Love ('92) <3
(+ Extended Version)
~~ courage ~ compassion ~ connection ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ vulnerability ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Γνῶθι σεαυτόν ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ vulnerability ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Γνῶθι σεαυτόν ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
89Coole Kurzgeschichte
The Egg
By: Andy Weir
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
The Egg
By: Andy Weir
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
Take pain as a game.
Re: Gedichte, Songtexte, Lyrik
90http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bh1ZZWut ... re=related
Ganz aus Glas
Kalt wie Eis
Jeder Baum im Glasgarten
Blüten rein wie Kristall
Jeder Ton im Glasgarten
Wie aus Wasser geformt - erstarrt
gesprungenes Lachen
Elfenstimmen eilen
zwischen den klaren Blüten
eisgleicher Äste
glashafter Bäume
Ob sie wohl Leben?
Sie werfen keine Schatten
nur gebrochene Bilder
sie fächern das Licht
Im Glasgarten verirrt sich die Zeit
und bleibt als Moment erhalten
Nur der Mond weist den Weg zum Morgen
erlaubt der Sonne einen neuen Tag
Im Glasgarten küßt der Mond das Licht
Nichts duftet
geschmacklos die Frucht
Wer genießt sie?
Schön...
Im Kristallglas
verirrt sich das Licht
Die Blumen wirken spröde und starr
wem sollte ich diese Kälte schenken
die Leere zumuten
unmöglich sie zu pflücken
sie zerspringen in abertausend Splitter
winzige Kristalle
die im Fallen singen
den Atem der Elfen
begleiten
an jedes Ohr
das bereit ist
zu hören
Nur der Mond weist den Weg zum Morgen
erlaubt der Sonne einen neuen Tag
Im Glasgarten küßt der Mond das Licht
Und die Blumen wirken spröde
ganz unmöglich sie zu pflücken
sie zerspringen in Kristalle
die im Fallen leise singen
Und der Atem sanfter Elfen
die den kleinsten Ton begleiten
durch den Garten ganz aus Lichtern
an dein Ohr wenn du denn hören kannst
Ganz aus Glas
Kalt wie Eis
Jeder Baum im Glasgarten
Blüten rein wie Kristall
Jeder Ton im Glasgarten
wie alles - klar - glatt - rein
wie alles - klar - glatt - rein
Ganz aus Glas
Kalt wie Eis
Jeder Baum Glasgarten
Blüten rein wie Kristall
Jeder Ton Glasgarten...
Ganz aus Glas
Kalt wie Eis
Jeder Baum im Glasgarten
Blüten rein wie Kristall
Jeder Ton im Glasgarten
Wie aus Wasser geformt - erstarrt
gesprungenes Lachen
Elfenstimmen eilen
zwischen den klaren Blüten
eisgleicher Äste
glashafter Bäume
Ob sie wohl Leben?
Sie werfen keine Schatten
nur gebrochene Bilder
sie fächern das Licht
Im Glasgarten verirrt sich die Zeit
und bleibt als Moment erhalten
Nur der Mond weist den Weg zum Morgen
erlaubt der Sonne einen neuen Tag
Im Glasgarten küßt der Mond das Licht
Nichts duftet
geschmacklos die Frucht
Wer genießt sie?
Schön...
Im Kristallglas
verirrt sich das Licht
Die Blumen wirken spröde und starr
wem sollte ich diese Kälte schenken
die Leere zumuten
unmöglich sie zu pflücken
sie zerspringen in abertausend Splitter
winzige Kristalle
die im Fallen singen
den Atem der Elfen
begleiten
an jedes Ohr
das bereit ist
zu hören
Nur der Mond weist den Weg zum Morgen
erlaubt der Sonne einen neuen Tag
Im Glasgarten küßt der Mond das Licht
Und die Blumen wirken spröde
ganz unmöglich sie zu pflücken
sie zerspringen in Kristalle
die im Fallen leise singen
Und der Atem sanfter Elfen
die den kleinsten Ton begleiten
durch den Garten ganz aus Lichtern
an dein Ohr wenn du denn hören kannst
Ganz aus Glas
Kalt wie Eis
Jeder Baum im Glasgarten
Blüten rein wie Kristall
Jeder Ton im Glasgarten
wie alles - klar - glatt - rein
wie alles - klar - glatt - rein
Ganz aus Glas
Kalt wie Eis
Jeder Baum Glasgarten
Blüten rein wie Kristall
Jeder Ton Glasgarten...