Where were you when I was lonesome
Locked away in this freezing cold
Someone flying, only stolen,
I can't tell, this night's so old,

I don't wanna swim the ocean,
I don't wanna fight the tide,
I don't wanna swim forever,
When it's cold i'd like to die.

Moby - гениален. Как всегда.

Вчера моя преподавательница по вокалу процитировала Ницше: Искусство создано для того, чтобы не умереть от истину. Насколько тонко!