belle2007–2002 |
dada2002–1999 |
sundance1999–1997 |
frere1997–1995 |
julian1995–1994 |
stone1994–1993 |
19 December 1997
Limp and lifeless I hold yesterday (broken) in my hands.
Baron womb of desolation that
promised so much yet delivered such
agony as now I am left with.
Today is upon me and tomorrow is coming,
but what do I care save that
perhaps I shall see you and
feel you in my arms again.
Arms so pitiful that have known but emptiness
and yearn for something warmer.
Devoid of strength and hope
they carry me on.
Copyright © 1997 Charles Fry
la vie me déchire For all the words I didn't write My two calloused hands Hold me in your arms so tightly; When springtime comes soft, sweet and warm the water of life these are the times geraniums sweet of all sweetness when Death first called my name Arms so pitiful Redemption The tears in your eyes tear me more than my own. Oh Seigneur A toi, l'humanité flesh of mortal man, immortal woman again an unknown stranger. canticle to my soul My tender heart dilates with each emancipation