Bob DylanI watched his cracked dry lips as they sang his songs.More Like This
Cold raw finger tips dancing along.
On a long wooden neck, of a factory made guitar.
Singing of truths from a voice so distant and far.
The lands, they'd split as the people, they'd raved.
While ol' Bob, he'd sit there on his brass bucket, and wave.
At the near to gone crazy, and the old, the good, and dead.
And I watched as he wouldn't bother to lift up his sunken head.
God, let thunder strike me down if I ever wish to be like him.
For it don't take the gifted to learn that we're all stuck in the same loonie bin.
The Fall of the Roman EmpireWhen you've reached the peak and you have it all,More Like This
Which way can you move without a fall?
When the gains you've made are through war and greed
And you've lost all sight of the poor man’s need.
Then surely the riches you eagerly sought,
The lands you conquered, the wars you fought,
Must someday dissolve with a cry of pain,
‘Cause you can’t hold an empire on that kind of gain.
The Roman Empire in days of old,
Was a land of honey and wine and gold,
But the honey and wine were for just a few,
And the gold seemed to go the same way too.
The men at the top wanted more and more,
Then they had it all and it was all a bore.
So they looked for a means to brighten their days,
And they managed this in many ways.
The lions roared and the fun began
When they opened the doors and pushed out a man.
And the air was torn with joyful cries,
As the blood spilled out before their eyes.
The Christians, it seemed, were their favorite game,
And they died in the hundreds in the Good Lord
An Animal Crossing Story: Chapter 8Though I haven't kept track of the dates; the animals here sure do. There's a grand clock by the town hall that gongs at every hour. The date is inscribed at the side of every letter I receive from neighbors that have passed on or, "moved away." Corny events are tracked and celebrated by neighbors, just to keep their deluded minds off of ongoing tragedies that go right under their noses. As days drag more and food becomes more scarce; there are just a few trees left in my town with ripe oranges. If it weren't for Horatio's share, I'd be much worse off than I am.More Like This
Even with these reminders; it's not until the rude awakening of a pounding at my door that I'm reminded today is August 10th. My sixteenth birthday, and the day I'm supposed to return home from "camp" according to the brochure.
Turns out it's a squirrel who has asked me what my birthday was before, has made a cake for me. Another antelope I pass by gives a green balloon. Frobert, the frog I sold my shirt to, even sends
An Animal Crossing Story: Chapter 7Passing days here are more like weeks; and every second seems more like a lifetime. Fruit are growing low in both our towns, and with that so is our chance for survival; as besides raw and overcooked fish, it is our only source of food that isn't flesh.More Like This
"Do you think they'll really get these?" Asks Horatio, as we scurry out to send more letters. We have sent out copies of the same note on similar templates, warning them about cannibal Nook and requesting whoever shall receive the letter to send back their code. No responses so far, but we can only hope others have received the message and are together plotting rebellion.
"Someone out there should." The only concern, and what has feared us most, was if someone with a position of power were to see it, track down our codes, and execute us on the spot. They were planning to anyhow, and as it's been two weeks since I've been dropped off at "camp," it's just a matter of time before they decide I'm no value to them besides making a good garni