Milk
2:10
Maito, tuo jumalten juoma. Kiippariorkesterikokeilu.
Twiittaa
Kappaleen sanat
A new dawn had come. I looked out towards the sun rising over the hills, meadows and seas and took a deep breath of the new day. I felt like I could do anything, that nothing could stop me from touching the rainbow today. There was only one thing that could make this morning better than it already was.
I went downstairs and gathered my strength. I looked the fridge dead in the eye and declared, “Fridge, you will not keep me away from the nectar of gods. Not today.”
You see, the door of our fridge was stuck. Many a morning it had bested me and forced me to drink water. Not today! I grasped the handle firmly and pulled it open. There, amidst the groceries and leftovers, was a carton of milk.
I raised it high and, from the bottom of the most reclusive reaches of my soul, let loose a boisterous cry to honor the cows that blessed me with this gift. Though it agitated my family, for it was still the earliest hours where the night turned to morn, I paid no mind to them and took a deep swig straight out of the carton.
I felt revitalized, my body became one with the fabrics of the world itself. For a brief, fleeting moment, I knew all there was and would be to know.
As I waited for the schoolbus to arrive, I raised my fist high in the air and, as the sun’s rays caressed my face, whispered a word that covered everything there was to say on a morning like this.
“Milk,” I said, gazed down the street where the bus was closing in, and said it once more. “Milk.”
I went downstairs and gathered my strength. I looked the fridge dead in the eye and declared, “Fridge, you will not keep me away from the nectar of gods. Not today.”
You see, the door of our fridge was stuck. Many a morning it had bested me and forced me to drink water. Not today! I grasped the handle firmly and pulled it open. There, amidst the groceries and leftovers, was a carton of milk.
I raised it high and, from the bottom of the most reclusive reaches of my soul, let loose a boisterous cry to honor the cows that blessed me with this gift. Though it agitated my family, for it was still the earliest hours where the night turned to morn, I paid no mind to them and took a deep swig straight out of the carton.
I felt revitalized, my body became one with the fabrics of the world itself. For a brief, fleeting moment, I knew all there was and would be to know.
As I waited for the schoolbus to arrive, I raised my fist high in the air and, as the sun’s rays caressed my face, whispered a word that covered everything there was to say on a morning like this.
“Milk,” I said, gazed down the street where the bus was closing in, and said it once more. “Milk.”
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