Search results for 'overmuch'

got my soul
Overmuch I'm too much I'm overmuch
I'm way over Overmuch
I'm too much I'm overmuch
I'm way out of reach and way out of touch

And I roll

is not vital overmuch;
Dying, not mortal overmuch;
Nor sad, nor proud,
Nor curious at all.
He cannot tell
Old men’s placidity from his.
VI
But cursed

hurt by
You
Afraid to get hurt by
My imagination
I always rush into thinking
Overmuch
All the time I got wasted
By thinking what should I do
All

Sonnets/Unrealities XI

Björk

Medúlla [DualDisc]

2004

As mine in time not far away

If on another's face your sweet hair lay
In such a silence as I know
Or such great rising words, as uttering overmuch

Sonnets/Unrealities XI

Björk

Medúlla

2004

As mine in time not far away

If on another's face your sweet hair lay
In such a silence as I know
Or such great rising words, as uttering overmuch

Religion and Reason and rational touch 
And often I think that I think overmuch 
And I heft up the weight as a stone 
Bereft, I mutter and moan 
I am left,

hours
Tramples upon earthly flowers

He who asks an oath from love
Doth thereby his folly prove

Mourn not overmuch nor stress
After love or happiness

He

bred
To barter, nor compensating the want
By shrewdness, neither capable of lies,
Nor asking overmuch and taking less,
And still foreboding what would

allowed to get colder
Your slim uniform is clutch
Squeezing my heart bolder

Slay your fear 
Do not be afraid overmuch
I can't keep my emotions' weir 
From

touch You can't predict it all That's overmuch!!! 
 
So realize what's high above Our dignity A starting point of change A new degree 
 
Feel your bones

fall upon us all
Still remains the choice of our deeds right in the here and now

Walls were built to exploit overmuch
But extinction is at the end

can't predict it all
That?s overmuch!!!

So realize what's high above
Our dignity
A starting point of change
A new degree

Feel your bones crushing in

Unto a Long Glory...

Summoning

Dol Guldur

swore
From the North he shall come
And he shall pass the door
To the Paths of the Dead

Mourn not overmuch - mighty was the fallen
And war now calls

It May Not Always Be So

Mathilde Santing

Water Under the Bridge

as mine in time
Not far away
If on another's face your sweet hair lay
In such a silence as I know
Or such great writing words as
Uttering overmuch