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I’ve been looking so long at these pictures of youThat I almost believe that they’re realI’ve been living so long with my pictures of youThat I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feelRemembering you standing quiet in the rainAs I ran to your heart to be nearAnd we kissed as the sky fell in, holding you closeHow I always held close in your fearRemembering you running soft through the nightYou were bigger and brighter and wider than snowYou screamed at the make-believe, screamed at the skyAnd you finally found all your courage to let it all goRemembering you, fallen into my armsCrying for the death of your heartYou were stone white, so delicateLost in the coldYou were always so lost in the darkRemembering you how you used to beSlow drowned, you were angelsSo much more than everythingHold for the last time then slip away quietlyOpen my eyes, but I never see anythingIf only I’d thought of the right wordsI could have held on to your heartIf only I’d thought of the right wordsI wouldn’t be breaking apart all my pictures of youLooking so long at these pictures of youBut I never hold on to your heartLooking so long for the words to be trueBut always just breaking apartMy pictures of youThere was nothing in the world that I ever wanted moreThan to feel you deep in my heartThere was nothing in the world that I ever wanted moreThan to never feel the breaking apartMy pictures of you
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Well, I started outDown a dirty roadStarted out all aloneAnd the sun went downAs I crossed the hillAnd the town lit upThe world got stillI’m learning to flyBut I ain’t got wingsComing downIs the hardest thingWell the good ol’ daysMay not returnAnd the rocks might meltAnd the sea may burnI’m learning to fly(I’m learning to fly)But I ain’t got wings(I’m learning to fly)And coming down(I’m learning to fly)Is the hardest thing(I’m learning to fly)Now some say lifeWill beat you downYeah, break your heartSteal your crownSo I started outFor God knows whereI guess I’ll knowWhen I get thereI’m learning to flyAround the cloudsBut what goes upMust come downI’m learning to fly(I’m learning to fly)But I ain’t got wingsComing downIs the hardest thingI’m learning to fly(I’m learning to fly)Around the cloudsBut what goes up(I’m learning to fly)Must come downI’m learning to fly(I’m learning to fly)(I’m learning to fly)I’m learning to fly(I’m learning to fly)(I’m learning to fly)(I’m learning to fly)
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I never meant to cause you any sorrowI never meant to cause you any painI only wanted one time to see you laughingI only want to see you laughing in the purple rainPurple rain, purple rainPurple rain, purple rainPurple rain, purple rainI only want to see you bathing in the purple rainI never wanted to be your weekend loverI only wanted to be some kind of friendBaby, I could never steal you from anotherIt’s such a shame our friendship had to endPurple rain, purple rainPurple rain, purple rainPurple rain, purple rainI only want to see you underneath the purple rainHoney I know, I know, I know times are changingIt’s time we all reach out for something newThat means you tooYou say you want a leaderBut you can’t seem to make up your mindI think you better close itAnd let me guide you to the purple rainPurple rain, purple rainPurple rain, purple rainIf you know what I’m singing about up hereC’mon, raise your handPurple rain, purple rainI only want to see you, only want to see youIn the purple rain
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Ride the dragon toward the crimson eyeFlap the wings under Mars red skyThe reptile pushes itself out into spaceLeaving behind, the human raceSwim inside the solar seasThe Nebula cries out to mePassing where I’ve gone beforeI fly through the crimson doorRide the dragon toward the crimson eyeFlap the wings under Mars red sky+
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Alejandro Jodorowsky’s cult film The Holy Mountain, newly restored in 4K, firmly established the director as an auteur of Surrealist Cinema, and sparked controversy at the 1973 Cannes Film Festival due to its sacrilegious imagery. The director himself plays The Alchemist, a guru who guides a troupe of pilgrims, each representing the planets in the solar system, on a magical quest to Lotus Island where they must ascend the Holy Mountain in search of spiritual enlightenment.#AlejandroJodorowsky #TheHolyMountain #4K #Jodorowsky
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I’m feelin’ rough, I’m feelin’ rawI’m in the prime of my lifeLet’s make some music, make some moneyFind some models for wivesI’ll move to Paris, shoot some heroin and fuck with the starsYou man the island and the cocaine and the elegant carsThis is our decision to live fast and die youngWe’ve got the vision, now let’s have some funYeah, it’s overwhelming, but what else can we do?Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?Forget about our mothers and our friendsWe’re fated to pretendTo pretendWe’re fated to pretendTo pretendI’ll miss the playgroundsAnd the animals and digging up wormsI’ll miss the comfort of my motherAnd the weight of the worldI’ll miss my sister, miss my father,Miss my dog and my homeYeah, I’ll miss the boredomAnd the freedom and the time spent aloneBut there is really nothing, nothing we can doLove must be forgotten, life can always start up anewThe models will have children, we’ll get a divorceWe’ll find some more models, everything must run its courseWe’ll choke on our vomit and that will be the endWe were fated to pretendTo pretendWe’re fated to pretendTo pretendI said yeah, yeah, yeahYeah, yeah, yeahYeah, yeah, yeahYeah, yeah, yeah
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She makes me so unsure of myselfStanding there but never ever talking senseJust a visitor you seeSo much wanting to be seenShe’d open up the doors and vaguely carry us awayIt’s the customary thing to say or doTo a disappointed proud man in his griefAnd on Fridays she’d be thereBut on Mondays not at allJust casually appearing from the clock across the hallYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laI’m the church and I’ve comeTo claim you with my iron drumLa la la la la laThe Continent’s just fallen in disgraceWilliam, William, William Rogers put it in its placeBlood and tears from old JapanCaravans and lots of jamAnd maids of honor singing, crying, singing tediouslyYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laYes, you’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laI’m the bishop and I’ve comeTo claim you with my iron drumLa la la la la laEfficiency, efficiency, they sayGet to know the date and tell the time of dayAs the crowds begin complainingHow the Beaujolais is rainingDown on darkened meetings on the Champs-ÉlyséesYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laAnd I’m the church and I’ve comeTo claim you with my iron drumLa la la la la laYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laI’m the church and I’ve comeTo claim you with my iron drumLa la la la la laYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laYou’re a ghost, la la la la la la la la laI’m the church and I’ve comeTo claim you with my iron drumLa la la la la la