Τρίτη, Δεκεμβρίου 2

ian curtis


isolation

In fear every day,m every evening,
He calls her aloud from above,
Carefully watched for a reason,
Painstaking devotion and love,
Surrendered to self preservation,
From others who care for themselves.
A blindness that touches perfection,
But hurts just like anything else.

Isolation, isolation, isolation.

Mother I tried please believe me,
I'm doing the best that I can.
I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through,
I'm ashamed of the person I am.

Isolation, isolation, isolation.

But if you could just see the beauty,
These things I could never describe,
These pleasures a wayward distraction,
This is my one lucky prize.

Isolation, isolation, isolation, isolation, isolation.

Ian Curtis, Joy Division, 1980

3 σχόλια:

VITA MI BAROUAK είπε...

Νομίζω, πως το αίμα ενός αυτόχειρα καλλιτέχνη, είναι πρώτης τάξης λίπασμα για το έργο του...

κοπρόγατα είπε...

συμφωνώ.

librarian είπε...

Εντυπωσιακή η ταινία με θέμα τη ζωή του: Control!