In an age of video wallpaper and aural anesthesia,
Music has become a prostitute.
No longer is it a gift from the gods;
It has become a pacifier,
a tranquilizer,
and a tool.
A tool to protect us from loneliness,
to entice us to buy
and to keep us from seeing
how bad things have become.
At one time,
music was a vital experience,
it was physical,
emotional,
almost religious.
Today music is just
one more device
used by the new sun king
called civilization
to control itself.
Hasretinle geçiyorken bu gençlik çağım, Ey sevdiğim, ben ümitsiz değilim gene Ak düşünce saçların kumral…
Karşıdan gelirken insan Bu kadar mı işveli ve candan Bu kadar mı cilveli fettan Bu…
If you like my body touch me Touch me, touch me, touch me Touch me,…
Bilsen nasil özledim Hep yolunu gözledim Birkez olsun gelmedin Sen beni mahkum ettin Karanlık gecelere…
Gözlerinde son bakışın yokluğun sonu Çaresizlik dört bir yanım Yok çıkar yolu Baş ucumda hasretin…
She don't know what to say She don't know what to do She's up in…
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