In the early 1800's, large groups of mainly unskilled labourers built
England's Railways. The cost in human terms alone was very high ...
Leaving my family behind me
not knowing what lay ahead
waving goodbye, as I left them in tears
remembering all we'd said
I looked to the sky, I offered my prayers
I asked Him for guidance and strength
but the simple beliefs of a simple man
lay in His hands, and on my head
I gave everything that they wanted
but still they wanted more
we sweat and we toiled
good men lost their lives
I don't think they knew what for
I sold them my heart
I sold them my soul
I gave everything I had
but they couldn't break my spirit
my dignity fought back,
fightback
can you hear me
can you see
Don't you hear me
don't you see
We worked in gangs for all we were worth
the young boys pulling the wagons
we were digging the tunnel, shifting the earth
it was then that it happened.
No-one knew how the cracks appeared
but as it fell they all disappeared
stone fell like rain
Can an you hear me,
Can you see
Don't you hear me
Can you breathe
The smoke cleared, the dust it settled
No one knew how many had died
all around there were broken men
they'd said it was safe, they'd lied
you could hear the cries, you could smell the fear
but good fortune that day was mine
and it occurred to me that the heart of a good man
it seems is hard to find.
Can you hear me,
can you see
Don't you hear me
don't you see
We worked, how we worked like
the devil for our pay
through the wind, through the snow,
through the rain
Blasting, cutting through Gods country like a knife
sweat stinging my eyes, there has to be a better life
But I can hear my children cry
I can see the tears in their eyes
memories of those I've lft behind
still ringing in my ears
Will I ever go back again
Will I ever see her face again
I'll never forget the night
As they waved goodbye to their fathers
We came from the South,
we came from the North
with picks and with spades
and a new kind of order
showing no fear of what lies up ahead
They'll never see the likes of us again
Driving the last spike,
lifting and laying the track
with blistering hands,
the sun burning your back
But I can hear my children cry
I can see the tears in their eyes
memories of those I've lft behind
still ringing in my ears
I will always remember that night,
As they waved goodbye to their fathers
We followed the rail, we slept under the stars
digging in darkness, living with danger
showing no fear of what lies up ahead
they'll never see the likes of us again
Kontrastas, bet gal ne toks baisus kaip gali pasirodyti. Aš irgi po savo stogu randu kai kurioms LT pop žvaigždėms vietos. Pvz, turbūt visi čia žino, kad aš esu visai nemenkas Aistės Pilvelytės mėgėjas.
Mano smegenys neregistruoja kai pamatau tokį vaizdą kaip "DjVaids mėgsta Pink Floyd dainą Time", o po apačia "DjVaids mėgsta YVA dainą Vasaros mergaitės" Bet imu pratintis jau.
Parašiau. Prašau, pakvieskit kas nors Pazistu_Mykola pasigrožėt tuo dienoraščiu... bus kaip laiko mašina 10 metų atgal, kai aš bombinau music'ą exceliniais grafikais ir Pazistu_Mykola tik ateidavo pasijuokt iš mano polinkio viskas "užstatistikinti"
Apskritai, senesniais laikais beveik visi kūrėjai pradėdavo su intencija tiesiog dalintis, be jokių monetizacijų. Tik vėliau už tai gavo atlygį. Dabar, deja, viskas korporatyvizuota (jei yra toks žodis), ir sunku pradėti be gero plano nuo pradžių.
Na, skaitoma medija visai kitą auditoriją turi, bet ir palyginti gerokai mažesnė. Tokia jau tinklaraštininkų dalia. Na bet galiausiai, svarbiausia, kad veikla patiktų ir duotų kažko gero bent keliems žmonėms. Ko daugiau ir reikia.
Nebent tai darai kaip saviraiškos būdą neturėdamas noro gauti jokios grąžos. Bet man blog'o formatas mielesnis, aš kai noriu rašau tekstus savo tinkluose ir viskas. Skaitoma medija man visuomet bus pirmiau žiūrimos medijos.