All done!
In times of darkness, you brighten me,
My one oasis, my southern star,
In depths of sorrow, you gladden me.
My love, my life, my scimitar.
And there you are, peaceful, untouched, reposed...
It's an abstract poem, don't try to make sense of it.
I no longer have my webspace so if you want the map (or the music) contact me on msn.
------------------
WAITER: Here’s your green salad, sir.
ANAKIN: What? You fool, I told you NO CROUTONS! Aaaaaaargh!
[This message has been edited by Flexor (edited July 15, 2004).]
In times of darkness, you brighten me,
My one oasis, my southern star,
In depths of sorrow, you gladden me.
My love, my life, my scimitar.
And there you are, peaceful, untouched, reposed...
It's an abstract poem, don't try to make sense of it.
I no longer have my webspace so if you want the map (or the music) contact me on msn.
------------------
WAITER: Here’s your green salad, sir.
ANAKIN: What? You fool, I told you NO CROUTONS! Aaaaaaargh!
[This message has been edited by Flexor (edited July 15, 2004).]
The music industry is a cruel and shallow money trench where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side.