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i wouldn't say i was an old fool yetbut a time arrives in the lives of menwhen a kindly mist enshrouds the holy past(we wouldn't make those mistakes again).the backward glance - always a price to payfor who has lived that time has not battered?as we stand at the mercy of the sunno longer those whom the daylight flatterssometimes the scent on a drifting breezedraws us back to when all of our hands were cleanwhen all the world seemed comprehensiblewhat we had with all those simpler machines(and still we yearn for all those simpler machines...)shell-shocked by the speed of lifeand nothing broken we know how to mendbewildered by such perpetual delightswe want to feel the wheels and architraves againand preciously, precariously- robust as porcelain figurines -we take a bow and start to say goodnightcomrades for ever with all those simpler machineslocked into history with those simpler machinesthe scrapyard stars are glittering tonightthe shards and smithereensno question - it is a sentimental sightour toys and tools all of those simpler machines.they'll break your heart alright, those simpler machines... From Letras Mania