Placeholder: Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no

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Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no

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Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Detailed (drawing by artist Otto Rapp 1.5) at the Cryptid Taxidermy Museum in post apocalyptic Wonderland, in heaven everything is fine by lady in the radiator and brothers quay, drawing by H.R. Giger, by Giuseppe Arcimboldo, Hieronymus Bosch, Alphonse Mucha, intricately detailed, hyperrealism, fantasy, Bogomils Universe
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion I was soaring ever higher But I flew too high Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say Carry on, my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself
Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more, no
[kupka] Fire! Bless my soul, that's the way it is Bless my soul, I can't resist Swift as a river With a hand as hard as stone What's hot as hell the same, won't leave you cold I'm a believer My world's just good as gold
I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself
There's more to living than only surviving Maybe I'm not there, but I'm still trying Though you hear me I don't think that you relate My will is something That you can't confiscate So forgive me, but I won't be frustrated By destruction in your eyes As you're staring at the sun
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