Mateys, gals, sometimes, on beautiful days like these, I sit in my garden. A glass of whiskey, or a nice glass of Belgian beer (depending on the weather). Today the sun shines bright, though its not very warm, since the wind is brushing freshly against my cheeks. If I close my eyes, I can pretend Im sitting on a hill covered with grass, somewhere next to a chateau in France, or a ruin in the Ardennes. It helps me to forget that im actually just sitting in my garden of 100 square meters. Then, I start thinking. How id actually hope my studies would fail. That I wouldnt get a job. That i didnt care about having my girlfriend. Then, I could quit this normal life. Then, I could travel around, play songs like these going from pub to pub. I would sleep in the open sky, or rent a room in some inn, or convince some pretty maiden to let me sleep with her in exchange for a ballad. Id live my semi-medieval life, owning nothing, yet everything would be mine. Halas. I love my girlfriend to bits. And getting by without a job is pretty hard these days. So I go inside and study, because my parents would kill me if Id fail them. Greetz, Jacques De Molay
Posted on: Sat, 29 Nov 2014 12:09:02 +0000
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