On this particularly bright and sleepless morning which began with a formal call from the career center, events otherwise known as
radiantfracture and Existential Comics having conspired to bring the Tractactus to the forefront of my mind, I have decided that the most cursed translation of Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darĂ¼ber muss man schweigen is "I feel that if a person can't communicate, the very least he can do is to shut up."
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- 1: There's no boat to take me where all the stars go to cross the water
- 2: Once you know it's a dream, it can't hurt
- 3: All the ghosts, some old, some new
- 4: The wind is blowing the planes around
- 5: Let the lights run like rivers all over my skin
- 6: I am bound to these shores, I'll be bound till the end
- 7: Wish everyone could hear when she sings
- 8: I cannot feel it, the veil of black, a fine spray of white paint
- 9: I make sure there are hidden messages in my work
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- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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