Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
You got rid of them. Yes, that's just like you. Getting rid of everything unpleasant instead of learning to put up with it. — Aldous Huxley, Brave New World