Napoleon's hat
Bright eyesMozart's foster parents put cigarettes out in his ears. When he got old enough to stutter, he said, "I don't listen but I-I-I, I can hear" The eloquence of traffic, yeah, the milk pond's sad lament. It's a requiem of moments. I keep living through them. But where is the monster in the closet? I can't find the hangman inside his hood. I guess evil don't exist when times are good.
Doctor Oppenheimer winced when he felt the broken piece of his pacemaker. Unbuttoned his shirt on a subway platform, clutching his chest while his vision blurred. He saw the bane of his creation. The destroyer of the world. Yeah, truth can lead to solace or a lifelong bender. It's like wading through a wasteland where a town you loved once stood. You just cry each time you think of when times were good.
Napoleon's tailor dressed him in a giant hat and funny platform shoes. He said, "Anyone can be a hero, you just gotta force people to look up to you." So when you're talking on the hotline to a suicidal soul. Don't let your voice sound like hot coffee, more like a scented pillow. And strive for understanding over being understood.
Just don't let yourself forget when the times get good. When times get good. When times get good.
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