Broken strains of a breaking float through the wall. Small voices and a cappella hymns. My older kids’ Sunday school class was singing this Sunday morning, and I could hear their voices in my class next door.
“Because: The legs feed the wolf, gentlemen.” From Miracle. Attributed to Herb Brooks. Alternate version:
Time will fill the rubbish yards, the hospitals, the funeral yard, but neither time nor I will hold your nineteen-eighty-five Chernobyl heart. -mewithoutYou
Put music to our troubles, and we’ll dance them away. -mewithoutYou, “The Ghost”
Six seconds of freefall in the gloaming until God gives you a shock, and then it’s a steady-slow descent to the ground, racing the sun. Picture stolen from here. My jump was combat equipment, of course.
From the neighborhood.
My old man always swore That hell would have no flames. Just a front row seat To watch your true love pack her things And drive away. -Pedro the Lion “The Poison”
I wrote this one up a few months ago. I will probably end up getting this tattooed on my right chest, opposite my crossed torches. “Vae Victis” is Latin for “woe to the vanquished.” The phrase comes from early Roman Republican history, when the Gauls sacked Rome in 390 BC. The Gaulish general, Brennus, demanded […]
But I carved a map in the backs of my arms. So don’t worry; I’m coming home. -“Down to Your Soul” by Right Away Great Captain!