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■ The oak
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„Fly on my sweet angel,
Tomorrow I'm gonna be by your side” – „Angel” – Jimi Hendrix Strings cut the flesh right through the electrified hair Lots of curls spinning straight to the soil sprinkled with flowers, where the power of the crowd stays hidden in the back of the cactuses – the essence for dilution of the opened eye-lids No words left behind just sounds that vibrate louder for every inch in an universe ruled by Jimi – the three handed guitarist On the cliffs, fighting the rough wind to reach the clouds, he runs as free as a stallion faster than night, like a simple thought Through the taste of wine the wild highway loses his tracks Somewhere far away, in a parallel realm of pleasures and peace, there’s a boundless garden where white winged creatures were walking; under a tree, laid on the weed, some shaggy guys and a “Strat” Fender expecting the thrill of the dazed exhibition in the hands of the king The angels dance like dandelions’ fluff swayed by the heavenly breeze, in a bright day for the souls
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