So three years later and it hits me, ruby bulbs…. Bulbs. The nervous system. The nervous system is referred to as some along the line of bulb. I just realigned my atlas vertebrae, by accident when I noticed a bone was completely to the left, and have been reading about molecular structure, also some other stuff that if I spoke about I would probably be, uhm judged. We are beautiful babies, filled with angels, the stars are emitting and I hear everything I can.
The song only makes sense to me, on a “logical” level, if it’s about that. I always thought it was beautiful, and I thought it was saying something very abstract and interpreted to help understand my own egoic sicknesses that I romanticized. I love you Jeff. Your name is popping every where. Different people, but with the same goal, just treading different paths.
My mother used to plant bulbs in the garden.. the thing about bulbs is unlike a normal flower, bulbs come back every year.. this song reminds me of what used to be her.. and so do those flowers that still remain..
I need to taste your voice in my mouth i need to taste your voice in the air i need to feel your skin against all that i reach out and feel your voice all over every where I need to taste your skin around the mail box and hold a post man in your smile I need to feel your lungs with small pox and fill the blow of a sick and distorted child beautiful baby, all filled with angels Beautiful baby, all filled with angels Beautiful baby all filled with angels beautiful baby, all filled with angels we are wrecking in your over we are swimming in your speakers we are sticky stuff all over coming out from all your features for free for free and i say i want inside because there is nothing on the surface but a hearse that holds the bad you and all your holes that hold no purpose for me for me smiles and over coats she said please stay a whille ice cream floats and dreams ...... and i will fill your heart with boats and belts and rings and candy apple everything bells and rings and candy apple everything .... trampoline, ... and bells and bouncing things and even the most silent will sing a song of love even the silent they will sing a song of love ..................
@@panscentralexpresspresents4733 I need to taste your voice in my mouth I need to taste your voice in the air And I need to feel your skin against all that I retch out And feel your voice all over everywhere I need to paste your skin around the mailbox And hold the postman in your smile I need to fill your lungs with smallpox And fill the glow of a sick and distorted life Beautiful baby All filled with angels Beautiful baby All filled with angels Beautiful baby All filled with angels Beautiful babies All filled with angels
@@ka-boom2083 I prefer to listen to the song and type them while it plays, even if some lyrics are wrong, they were a perception that I received when I first heard which was not influenced by any one else, so I like to see the discrepancies and try to figure out why I hear the things I do… kind of like “ you see what you want to see” I like to expose my beliefs and attachments that dictate how I perceive this world, because it says something about my fears and desires.
