"Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts"

Current Music: Alex Fakey - Painted Black (remix of Rolling Stones Version)
Current Mood: Determined

"There were ships of shapes and sizes,
Scattered out along the bay.
And I thought I heard her calling,
As the steamer pulled away.
The invaders must have seen them,
As across the coast they filed.
Standing firm between them
There lay Thunderchild.

Moving swiftly through the waters,
Cannons blazing as she came.
Brought a mighty metal warlord,
Crashing down in sheets of flame.
Sensing Victory was nearing,
Thinking fortune must have smiled.
People started cheering,
Come on Thunderchild.
Come on Thunderchild

Narrator voiceover: The martians released their black smoke, but the ship sped on, cutting down one of the tripod figures. Instantly the others raised their heat rays and melted the Thunderchilds valiant hull.

Lashing ropes and smashing timbers,
Flashing heat rays pierced the deck.
Dashing hopes for our deliverance,
As we watched the sinking wreck.
With the smoke of battle clearing,
Over graves in waves defiled.
Slowly Disappearing,
Farewell Thunderchild
Slowly Disappearing,
Farewell Thunderchild

Farewell Thunderchild
Farewell Thunderchild

Narrator Voiceover: When the smoke cleared, the steamer had reached the misty horizon and Carrie was safe. But the Thunderchild had vanished forever, taking with her man's last hope of victory. The leaden sky was lit by green flashes - cylinder following cylinder. And no-one and nothing was left to fight them. The Earth belonged to the Martians."

***

Borrowed 5 books on Near Eastern History/Archaeology. Hopefully they'll be of some help with essay I have to write. I should probably go to bed...but I'd rather net/watch rage (Gorillaz video clip - Feel Good Inc. just came on..*drowns in the song*)
Glad Monday's a public holiday...

***

Slow fires burn tantalizingly over wing and self. Deep sense of elusively unfoundable regret, for all the knowledge and experience that finds its path to oblivion.
"Much that once was, is lost for none now live who can remember it"
Half remembered; a taunting lace with irony.
Thoughts drift, taking flight on wings of their own: the spiraling dive of if's and unknowns dominating all prescence of true being. Catching it in the web of nostalgia, wrapped in past discontentment. Hopes the spider does not suck the blood of life from his veins and leave him to the Night's Dawn.
The world draws him back. Reality of now unfolds itself to be observed. Never tweaked or slighted though. Muscles tense to external fascination, the horizon ever the more closer for it.