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My Strange Nature / 18 March 2009

My concentration is shit at the moment, but I am able to write lyrics here and there on napkins and envelopes. Of course, the songs reflect the haunting sunshine my mind seems to be currently burning with. I wrote the following on a Sainsbury till receipt:

My strange nature


My sunrises are made of bones

My trees know how to bleed

My rain kills butterflies
I can fly but I will never be freed


Clouds are slaughtered sheep

And the wind are dreams without a home

No one wants to hear my volcano heart


My strange nature


My strange nature

I hope this strange nature show has been entertaining, although I do not have the David Attenborough commentary as auditory hallucination to offer you. Sorry about that.