{"id":804,"date":"2013-04-19T22:26:36","date_gmt":"2013-04-19T20:26:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/?page_id=804"},"modified":"2013-05-03T02:15:01","modified_gmt":"2013-05-03T00:15:01","slug":"11-enter-k","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/teksty\/teksty-oryginalne\/teksty-ph-solo\/11-enter-k\/","title":{"rendered":"11. Enter k"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>
\nParadox Drive<\/strong><\/p>\n

The thought crossed my mind –
\nhow curious, why should I want so much shut-eye?
\nFighting the darkness and furious,
\noh, but I once more fall into the song…
\njust the normal unconsciousness;
\ncould that be wrong?
\nAll out into action then all down into sleep –
\ncheck that attraction, it must be more than skin deep.<\/p>\n

I’ve checked the twenty-four hours,
\nI’ve done the stay-up-all-night;
\nin a certain way that’s power,
\nbut it’s not wired up right.
\nUp for the pleasure, then it’s dead to the world;
\nour lives surely measured by the unconscious third….<\/p>\n

Living on Paradox Drive,
\nwe must be living on Paradox Drive.<\/p>\n

The thought crossed my mind, how curious –
\nwhy should I want so much shut-eye?
\nFighting the darkness and furious…
\noh, but I once more dropped off to the deep,
\nthe sweet comfort of a life on my own, asleep.
\nUp for the pleasure or dead to the world,
\na life surely measured by the unconscious third…<\/p>\n

Living on Paradox Drive,
\nwe must be living on Paradox Drive.<\/p>\n

I’ve checked the twenty-four hours,
\nI’ve done the stay-up-all-night;
\nin a certain way that’s power,
\nbut it’s not wired up right,
\nit still isn’t right.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nThe Unconscious Life<\/strong><\/p>\n

I’m in command,
\nI’m in control,
\nI am the captain of my soul.
\nStill, I’m uncertain in one major role…
\noh, I drift through the unconscious life,
\nshift through the unconscious life,
\nlift up my unconscious eyes:
\nbeyond all normal pain and pleasure
\nwe should treasure the unconscious life.<\/p>\n

We’ve got our reasons for most things we do,
\nwe could surely rationalise them through.
\nA false ring of confidence
\nwould characterise us true –
\noh, we’re deep in the unconscious life
\nasleep in the unconscious life,
\npeeping through unconscious eyes.
\nBeyond all normal pain and pleasure
\nwe should treasure,
\ntreasure the unconscious,
\ntreasure the unconscious life.<\/p>\n

Something makes me nervous,
\nsomething makes me twitch,
\nsomething makes me scratch that Pavlovian itch,
\n(Wonder what that is now…?)
\nSomeone that I barely know must unpick the stitch
\nto unravel the unconscious life,
\ntravel the unconscious life,
\ngather the unconscious eye…
\nfar from shedding light on any motive
\nthe candle is votive when it burns at both ends.<\/p>\n

I’m not in command,
\nI’m out of control,
\nI am the Ship’s Boy of my soul….<\/p>\n

Oh, we drift through the unconscious life,
\nshift through the unconscious life,
\nlive through the unconscious life.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nAccidents<\/strong><\/p>\n

This meeting is a coincidence
\nwhich deserves a second look:
\nwe’ve seen the chapter of accidents
\nbecome the longest in the book.
\nI see your face in the picture for better or worse,
\nall power to the accident!<\/p>\n

Oh, the sweetest is the one I’m holding in my arms
\nand the fleetest is the one who survives
\nbut the meetest is the one who’s running on the spot
\nwhere the accident’s about to arrive.
\nI know my place on the planet, chapter and verse,
\nall part of the accident.<\/p>\n

I know my place in the story, a line of blank verse,
\na part of the accident.<\/p>\n

No system worth its salt
\nlays all its cards upon the table;
\nno discipline of thought
\nwill render me more able
\nto buck those random throws.<\/p>\n

This meeting is a coincidence
\nwhich deserves a second look –
\nwe’ve seen the chapter of accidents,
\nit’s the longest in the book.
\nOh, the sweetest is the one I’m holding in my arms
\nand the fleetest is the one who survives
\nbut the meetest is the one who’s running on the spot
\nwhere the accident’s about to arrive…
\n(The accidental, the accident!)<\/p>\n

Your face in the picture for better or worse,
\nall power to the accident!
\nI know my place on the planet chapter and verse,
\nall part of the accident.
\nI know my place in the story, a line of blank verse,
\na part of the accident.
\nI see your face in the picture for better or worse,
\nall power to the accident,
\nall power to the accident!<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nThe Great Experiment<\/strong><\/p>\n

„Is that all there is to it,” he asks,
\n„no more conjecture or controversy?
\nDon’t think I could go through it,
\nI couldn’t live with the memory.
\nNow is the hour, it comes eventually;
\nhow great the power as it falls on me!”<\/p>\n

He’s raising his sense of occasion to the limit –
\n(The big moment is coming up.)
\nPractised, his sense of evasion… or is it?
\n(No sidestep or dummy run.)
\nCraving a certain indulgence – would you give it?
\nWould you give it in time?<\/p>\n

Treading water, making waves
\nfrom the cradle to the grave;
\nhome by a whisker – close shaves!
\nI’m waiting,
\nwhat I said I meant:
\nno faking
\nThe Great Experiment.<\/p>\n

Near the end of the reel now,
\nhe’s hanging on by his fingertips.
\nHe knows how it feels;
\nat last the kiss of unearthly lips.
\nNow is the hour to get a tighter grip.
\nHow great the power as the tide begins to rip!<\/p>\n

I’m waiting –
\nno faking
\nThe Great Experiment.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nDon’t Tell Me\u00a0<\/strong> \"Przek\u0142ad\"<\/a><\/p>\n

You don’t have to say a thing,
\nthe silence is sweet;
\nwe’ve been together today
\nin a way we might never repeat.
\nOh, your head on the pillow,
\nthe distance in your eyes –
\nalready you might be
\nrehearsing the word ”Goodbye”.<\/p>\n

When the evening comes of this perfect day,
\nwhen the shadows run will you look away,
\nwill you slip away?
\nDon’t tell me anything.<\/p>\n

You don’t have to say a word,
\nall too well I understand:
\nthere’s a nervous tension
\nin the touch of your gentle hand.
\nThat makes me afraid –
\nI’ve seen you like this before…
\nthe moment you find somebody new
\nyou find yourself bored.
\nOh, I don’t want to lose you.<\/p>\n

When the evening comes of this perfect day,
\nwhen the shadows run will you look away,
\nwill you slip away?
\nDon’t tell me anything.<\/p>\n

Now the evening’s come,
\nnow I’m left alone;
\nnow the passion’s done
\nand you’re going home…
\noh, when will you telephone?
\nYou don’t tell me anything.
\nNo, you don’t even tell me
\nthe bell won’t ring.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nShe Wraps it Up<\/strong><\/p>\n

You know that she’s got something she wants to give;
\nhard to tell if it’s of spirit or the life she lives…
\nmaybe somewhere between the two.
\nOh, the waiting to see what it is!<\/p>\n

The energy donor, looking over her shoulder,
\nshe sees it all, she sees it slipping away.
\nThere’s a backbone shiver for the energy giver…
\nshe wraps it up, and that’s a final wrap for today.<\/p>\n

Some things she’ll soon learn to live without,
\nwhile others she’s not secure enough to doubt.
\nIt’ll be hard to stay so close
\nwhen all that special emptiness floods out.<\/p>\n

The energy donor shoots it straight from the shoulder:
\nshe sees it all, she sees it all rushing through.
\nThere’s a backbone shiver from the energy giver…
\nshe wraps it up, she wraps it up and gives it to you.<\/p>\n

Jumping shells, the electrons will dance
\nlike dusk-time fireflies.
\nJust as well that you took that last chance
\nto extend all your by-and-bys.
\nLet’s be clear:
\ndon’t be too far away…
\noh, but don’t get so near!
\nYou’ll remember today for the rest of your life.<\/p>\n

The energy donor, looking over her shoulder,
\nshe sees it all, she sees it slipping away.
\nThere’s a backbone shiver for the energy giver;
\nshe wraps it up, and that’s a heavy rap you’ll have to pay.
\nThe energy donor shoots it straight from the shoulder:
\nshe sees it all, she sees it all rushing through.
\nThere’s a backbone shiver from the energy giver –
\nshe wraps it up, she wraps it up and gives it to you.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nHappy Hour<\/strong><\/p>\n

Fuelled by alcohol,
\nshooting out words like a rocket,
\nlike a prophet out of Babylon
\nmethod acting the absurd….
\nShoot me those highballs
\ntill I’m lit up like I’m plugged in a socket;
\nlock me eyeball to eyeball,
\nlet’s not bother with the words.
\nOh, bring on the clowns, bring on the night,
\npour me double vision in black and white.
\nI’m falling, falling – don’t give me that look!
\nI’m falling, falling, it’s the oldest trick in the book,
\nMy chickadee, my passion flower,
\nshow me the way to the Happy Hour.<\/p>\n

I don’t like to see that:
\noh, no, I don’t like the way the hand is shaking,
\nshape-making like an acrobat
\non his way to the trapeze.
\nMy friends in the crowd
\nare all taking bets –
\nthey’re taking away the safety net.
\nFalling, falling – don’t give me that look!
\nI’m falling, only falling, it’s the oldest trick in the book,
\nvertigo on the high-wire tower –
\nis this really what they mean by 'Happy Hour`?<\/p>\n

The line between the social and the suicidal
\nso fine he might not know when he’s crossed it,
\nwhen he’s lost it;
\nwhen the social kick becomes the gauging-stick of survival.<\/p>\n

So here’s to the circus,
\nlet’s drink to the game of forgetting
\nthe marionette strings that jerk us,
\nthe real world just outside the door.
\nI know that my legs have gone
\nand I know that the light here is far from perfect…
\nI’ve rehearsed it, so I’ll carry on
\nuntil I wind up on the floor.<\/p>\n

My friends in the bar
\nwill stand me a round,
\nthey’ll toast me on my way to the underground.
\nI’m falling, falling – don’t give me that look!
\nI’m falling, only falling, it’s the oldest trick in the book,
\nMy chickadee, my passion flower,
\nshow me the way to the Happy Hour.
\nVertigo on the high-wire tower –
\nis this really what they mean by 'Happy Hour`?<\/p>\n

Put on the greasepaint, we’re getting ready for Happy Hour.
\nDo you hear me now? Can you feel me now?
\nI’m in the middle of Happy Hour…
\nPut on the greasepaint.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nSeven Wonders<\/strong><\/p>\n

Well, it must have been here somewhere,
\nthat which the culture highly prized:
\nthe list of ancient buildings,
\nthe attitude of mind,
\nthe wisdom of the prophets,
\nthe catalogue of books….
\nYou can’t get off it,
\nyou don’t know where to look.
\nI know you don’t know what to say
\nand it’s strange now, see how
\neverything’s changed,
\nincluding the Seven Wonders.
\nNothing is permanent here.<\/p>\n

New kick, new game, new theory,
\nthe rest reduced to nought:
\nit only takes a moment,
\none clear and lucid thought.
\nOnce the process has been triggered
\nall previous process disappears….
\nI don’t know what it is you fear,
\nI don’t know what it is you fear –
\nthe shift is nothing to be afraid of.<\/p>\n

Strange now, see how
\neverything’s changed,
\nincluding the Seven Wonders.
\nNothing is permanent here,
\nthat’s part of the spell we’re under.
\nGetting old then, say when
\nyou’re happy to hold
\nyour personal Seven Wonders.
\nNothing is permanent here.<\/p>\n

\"Przewi\u0144<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Paradox Drive The thought crossed my mind – how curious, why should I want so much shut-eye? Fighting the darkness and furious, oh, but I once more fall into the song… just the normal unconsciousness; could that be wrong? All … Czytaj dalej →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":659,"parent":519,"menu_order":11,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"sidebar-page.php","meta":{"_sitemap_exclude":false,"_sitemap_priority":"","_sitemap_frequency":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-804","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/804","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=804"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/804\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":806,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/804\/revisions\/806"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/519"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/659"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=804"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}