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108 109
Weird Fishes

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108 109
Weird Fishes

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CUIRARO HÃ

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Wax me, mold me / Heat the pins and stab them in / You have turned me into this / Just wish that it was bullet proof

+ 239

Dylan Thomas, 1947

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

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DEATH STRANDING DIRECTOR'S CUT

25 Hours played

Run, rabbit, run
Dig that hole, forget the sun
When, at last, the work is done
Don't sit down, it's time to dig another one
Long you live and high you fly
But only if you ride the tide
Balanced on the biggest wave
You race towards an early grave

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In the deepest ocean
The bottom of the sea
Your eyes
They turn me
Why should I stay here?
Why should I stay?
I'd be crazy not to follow
Follow where you lead
Your eyes
They turn me
Turn me into phantoms
I follow to the edge
Of the earth
And fall off
Yeah, everybody leaves
If they get the chance
And this...
is my chance
I get eaten by the worms
And weird fishes
Picked over by the worms
And weird fishes
Weird fishes
Weird fishes
Yeah I, I'll hit the bottom
Hit the bottom and escape
Escape
I, I hit the bottom
Hit the bottom and escape
Escape. C