Chapter 1156: 1156
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A microphone, a wooden chair, a guitar, a beam of lights.
The whole world is condensed into a stage, only one person and a voice are needed. That's all. Standing here, you can break the shackles of space and travel all over the world; you can also break the shackles of time and experience a long life. The line of sight fell on this stage involuntarily, quietly, just so quietly, gazing at the man in the center of the stage.
He was adjusting the strings intently, desolate and vicissitudes of life, and seemed to be thrown into the vast sea of people without attracting any attention. Maybe it was the drunken tramp who was lying under the chair just now, but at this moment it has changed. He had to be different, and he couldn't even see his face and eyes. He could only vaguely feel the loneliness and alienation, bitter and painful, noble and proud temperament, and then he could no longer look away.
In the dim halo, without warning, the fingertips of the tuning began to outline the strings. The simple chords seemed to have nothing special, but the musical notes that jumped between the slender fingertips rushed through the light and shadow. , Time stopped in this way, and then, the noisy discussion gradually disappeared, leaving only the trivial sound of the wine glass and the tabletop, the spoon and the coffee cup, leaving a lingering sound in the air.
There was an illusion in the trance, the sound of the music began to become louder, little by little, and finally sounded clearly in the ear.
"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon."
Just the first singing voice, the mellow and hoarse voice rippled in the melody, like a bamboo-like palm in the red velvet slapped/picked randomly, soft and warm faint The temperature is transmitted through the fingertips, and the delicate emotion falls on the tip of the heart without any hindrance, firmly grasping every clue of the mind.
"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon. I don't care about hanging, but pitifully, I don't want to be trapped in a grave forever. I have traveled all over the world."
Amidst the gurgling singing, unrestrained and unrestrained, but in the smoke-like tail sound, there is a touch of sadness and vicissitudes, the faint bitterness lingers under the nose like the smell of cigarettes, a trace of hoarseness His voice was like plucking the strings, gently plucking the heartstrings, and before realizing it, he was deeply and deeply immersed in a halo of halo.
He has reached every corner of the world, but now he must be trapped in the cold and darkness of a grave. Compared to death, the loss of freedom is even more terrifying. He doesn't mind the trial of hanging and the erosion of death, but he misses the freedom of flying and the wanton of dreams.
The call softly fell on my heart softly, and my gaze stared deeply at the face under the halo. The drooping eyelids blocked all eyes, and the thick and slender eyelashes cast shadows on the soul even more. The fragility and pride in the depths were hidden tightly, and the handsome eyebrows moved closer to the center slightly invisibly. After going through the vicissitudes of life and suffering, they seemed to have left deep marks.
Involuntarily, his thoughts followed the indifferent chords and moving voice to every corner of the world, and his mind was agitated. Time and space began to spread out little by little.
"Footprints are all over the corners of Kai-Phirado and Arkansas; wandering in the corners of Kai-Phirado and Arkansas. I'm so hungry, poor, a straw can hide me I’ve traveled thousands of times before.”
I don’t know if it’s an illusion. The light and upward corners of the mouth can be captured in the hazy halo, hidden between the beards. It seems not obvious, but the sparse eyebrows gently hum and sing a look of happiness and comfort, seeming to remember Wandering once.
The scenery of Cape Girardo and Arkans is not awkward, magnificent, and not beautiful, but it still leaves an indelible mark in the depths of my mind, those wind, those trees, those sunshine, those The sky...just a call in my mind, happiness surged up, even if he was almost starved to death once, a straw was enough to hide his figure, but it was still a journey of happiness.
That kind of pure happiness, crystal clear and translucent, without any impurities, sincere and simple.
Even if you are impoverished, even if you don't have enough food, even if you don't have enough clothes, happiness is real. Unexpectedly, he could not help closing his eyes, gently swaying his body following the melody, letting go of his footsteps, and began to wander the world.
"Climbing to a high peak, where I strengthened my stand; climbing to a high peak, where I strengthened my stand. Carrying a rifle on my shoulder, holding a dagger in my hand, poorly, I have reached the end of the world."
With the collision of reality and ideals, life became **** and cruel again. The Vietnam War, the United States moved all the young people across the country and threw themselves into the war. Then, during the wandering journey, he climbed to the peak. , Firmed up his position-he chose to join the war, reversing spears and daggers for the country.
But now, the sorrow and loneliness between words are flooding up.
Whose war was that war for? What is the insistence on the war for what? Who will remember those innocent lives? They all thought that they were serving their country, but they were just a fig leaf. They used their fresh and young lives to cover the politicians/persons of the White House. After they died in a foreign land, no one remembered their names, and they just turned into It's just a series of numbers.
God, oh, God, he has reached the end of the world, wandering carefree, he has no food, he has no shelter, he has no fetters, nothing but music, but he once owned the whole world.
Therefore, he would rather die, at least, what he had still existed.
The whole gaslight bar was quiet. In the quiet air, the light and shadow really stopped. His mouth was full of bitterness and sorrow, but it was indescribable. Just staring at the figure on the stage quietly like this, sighing. But lonely, sad and at a loss, it seems that even the heart in his chest has stopped beating.
There is still a touch of loneliness on the face that has experienced vicissitudes of life.
The light was so bright and shrouded his figure, and the world outside the light disappeared completely, leaving him alone, alone and helpless; but he still straightened his waist and opened it. Chest, humming softly intently and intently, that firm belief has never wavered.
Proud and noble, gentle and dazzling, low-key and gorgeous.
No eyes, no movements, or even expressions are needed. Between gestures, just sitting there quietly, the voice completes the narrative. Those vivid and profound emotional fragments flow slowly in the melody, forgetting everyone. The existence of, but easily dragged everyone into his world.
Listen, his singing has wings and is flying freely.
"The noose is wrapped around my neck, and they hang me high."
Suddenly, the tip of his nose was slightly sour, his vision blurred, a touch of sadness and loneliness echoed in his heart, his singing was so light and gentle, and even with a smile on the corners of his mouth, he lifted up gently, whispering, " The noose wrapped around my neck, and they hung me high. As I died, the last word came from my ear: It won’t be long before it will be over. Poorly, I’ve traveled the whole world."
Unexpectedly, the warm tears wet the corners of his eyes, embarrassed, but after all, it was only a minority.
Only the group of people who have really experienced the Vietnam War, only the group of people who have really experienced the 1960s, only the group of people who are really scarred and weather-beaten, and only the group of people who really touched the core of the folk song, only really calm down and listen. That group of people can hear the deep emotions in this shallow chanting tune.
When freedom disappears, when dreams disappear, when persistence and beliefs disappear, they no longer exist. Even if they are alive, they are already dead, wandering like a corpse, wandering woodlessly, and the memories of the past are all It has become a thing of the past, buried deep in rotten soil. When spring comes, waiting for the moment of blooming flowers.
"So, hang me~www.novelhall.com~ Oh, hang me, I will die soon."
Her chest seemed to be clogged with cotton, and she couldn't speak or shout, and even the tears from the corners of her eyes had disappeared, but her vision was blurred, leaving a halo in front of her eyes.
On the stage, the figure sat peacefully, holding the guitar in his arms, humming softly, raising his eyes slightly, and swiping his eyes filled with halo, you can see the guests in the bar who are concentrating on dining. No one cared about his performance at all. The murmur of clashing dishes could be faintly heard, but he didn't care either. The smile on the corner of his mouth was a slight squeeze, and the vicissitudes of life hoarse voice guided the memories back to the past.
The audience who could really understand, were completely stunned, staring at the figure deeply and deeply, the beer in their hands had gradually become warm, and the cigarettes on their fingertips almost burned their fingers, the table The coffee on the coffee table has slowly lost its temperature... but the sight is still reluctant to leave.
Pata, the soot fell like this, but no one paid attention.
In the lingering smoke, time has completely lost its meaning in the light and shadow. Simple chords and simple composition are so simple that there is nothing new, but the magnificence and magnificence of the story makes the language completely disappear. You only need to look at him. Indulge slowly in this way, and then indulge, leave tomorrow's things for tomorrow.
As for tonight? Even on the gallows, it seems that it is no longer important. The important thing is, have you ever traveled to every corner of the world? Do you really have freedom and dreams?
The narrative that came to me was soft and light, like elegant poems and moving legends, beating between his lips and teeth, and then I heard him humming:
"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die forever."
Please remember the domain name of this book's first publication:. Three heads mobile version read the URL:
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
A microphone, a wooden chair, a guitar, a beam of lights.
The whole world is condensed into a stage, only one person and a voice are needed. That's all. Standing here, you can break the shackles of space and travel all over the world; you can also break the shackles of time and experience a long life. The line of sight fell on this stage involuntarily, quietly, just so quietly, gazing at the man in the center of the stage.
He was adjusting the strings intently, desolate and vicissitudes of life, and seemed to be thrown into the vast sea of people without attracting any attention. Maybe it was the drunken tramp who was lying under the chair just now, but at this moment it has changed. He had to be different, and he couldn't even see his face and eyes. He could only vaguely feel the loneliness and alienation, bitter and painful, noble and proud temperament, and then he could no longer look away.
In the dim halo, without warning, the fingertips of the tuning began to outline the strings. The simple chords seemed to have nothing special, but the musical notes that jumped between the slender fingertips rushed through the light and shadow. , Time stopped in this way, and then, the noisy discussion gradually disappeared, leaving only the trivial sound of the wine glass and the tabletop, the spoon and the coffee cup, leaving a lingering sound in the air.
There was an illusion in the trance, the sound of the music began to become louder, little by little, and finally sounded clearly in the ear.
"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon."
Just the first singing voice, the mellow and hoarse voice rippled in the melody, like a bamboo-like palm in the red velvet slapped/picked randomly, soft and warm faint The temperature is transmitted through the fingertips, and the delicate emotion falls on the tip of the heart without any hindrance, firmly grasping every clue of the mind.
"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon. I don't care about hanging, but pitifully, I don't want to be trapped in a grave forever. I have traveled all over the world."
Amidst the gurgling singing, unrestrained and unrestrained, but in the smoke-like tail sound, there is a touch of sadness and vicissitudes, the faint bitterness lingers under the nose like the smell of cigarettes, a trace of hoarseness His voice was like plucking the strings, gently plucking the heartstrings, and before realizing it, he was deeply and deeply immersed in a halo of halo.
He has reached every corner of the world, but now he must be trapped in the cold and darkness of a grave. Compared to death, the loss of freedom is even more terrifying. He doesn't mind the trial of hanging and the erosion of death, but he misses the freedom of flying and the wanton of dreams.
The call softly fell on my heart softly, and my gaze stared deeply at the face under the halo. The drooping eyelids blocked all eyes, and the thick and slender eyelashes cast shadows on the soul even more. The fragility and pride in the depths were hidden tightly, and the handsome eyebrows moved closer to the center slightly invisibly. After going through the vicissitudes of life and suffering, they seemed to have left deep marks.
Involuntarily, his thoughts followed the indifferent chords and moving voice to every corner of the world, and his mind was agitated. Time and space began to spread out little by little.
"Footprints are all over the corners of Kai-Phirado and Arkansas; wandering in the corners of Kai-Phirado and Arkansas. I'm so hungry, poor, a straw can hide me I’ve traveled thousands of times before.”
I don’t know if it’s an illusion. The light and upward corners of the mouth can be captured in the hazy halo, hidden between the beards. It seems not obvious, but the sparse eyebrows gently hum and sing a look of happiness and comfort, seeming to remember Wandering once.
The scenery of Cape Girardo and Arkans is not awkward, magnificent, and not beautiful, but it still leaves an indelible mark in the depths of my mind, those wind, those trees, those sunshine, those The sky...just a call in my mind, happiness surged up, even if he was almost starved to death once, a straw was enough to hide his figure, but it was still a journey of happiness.
That kind of pure happiness, crystal clear and translucent, without any impurities, sincere and simple.
Even if you are impoverished, even if you don't have enough food, even if you don't have enough clothes, happiness is real. Unexpectedly, he could not help closing his eyes, gently swaying his body following the melody, letting go of his footsteps, and began to wander the world.
"Climbing to a high peak, where I strengthened my stand; climbing to a high peak, where I strengthened my stand. Carrying a rifle on my shoulder, holding a dagger in my hand, poorly, I have reached the end of the world."
With the collision of reality and ideals, life became **** and cruel again. The Vietnam War, the United States moved all the young people across the country and threw themselves into the war. Then, during the wandering journey, he climbed to the peak. , Firmed up his position-he chose to join the war, reversing spears and daggers for the country.
But now, the sorrow and loneliness between words are flooding up.
Whose war was that war for? What is the insistence on the war for what? Who will remember those innocent lives? They all thought that they were serving their country, but they were just a fig leaf. They used their fresh and young lives to cover the politicians/persons of the White House. After they died in a foreign land, no one remembered their names, and they just turned into It's just a series of numbers.
God, oh, God, he has reached the end of the world, wandering carefree, he has no food, he has no shelter, he has no fetters, nothing but music, but he once owned the whole world.
Therefore, he would rather die, at least, what he had still existed.
The whole gaslight bar was quiet. In the quiet air, the light and shadow really stopped. His mouth was full of bitterness and sorrow, but it was indescribable. Just staring at the figure on the stage quietly like this, sighing. But lonely, sad and at a loss, it seems that even the heart in his chest has stopped beating.
There is still a touch of loneliness on the face that has experienced vicissitudes of life.
The light was so bright and shrouded his figure, and the world outside the light disappeared completely, leaving him alone, alone and helpless; but he still straightened his waist and opened it. Chest, humming softly intently and intently, that firm belief has never wavered.
Proud and noble, gentle and dazzling, low-key and gorgeous.
No eyes, no movements, or even expressions are needed. Between gestures, just sitting there quietly, the voice completes the narrative. Those vivid and profound emotional fragments flow slowly in the melody, forgetting everyone. The existence of, but easily dragged everyone into his world.
Listen, his singing has wings and is flying freely.
"The noose is wrapped around my neck, and they hang me high."
Suddenly, the tip of his nose was slightly sour, his vision blurred, a touch of sadness and loneliness echoed in his heart, his singing was so light and gentle, and even with a smile on the corners of his mouth, he lifted up gently, whispering, " The noose wrapped around my neck, and they hung me high. As I died, the last word came from my ear: It won’t be long before it will be over. Poorly, I’ve traveled the whole world."
Unexpectedly, the warm tears wet the corners of his eyes, embarrassed, but after all, it was only a minority.
Only the group of people who have really experienced the Vietnam War, only the group of people who have really experienced the 1960s, only the group of people who are really scarred and weather-beaten, and only the group of people who really touched the core of the folk song, only really calm down and listen. That group of people can hear the deep emotions in this shallow chanting tune.
When freedom disappears, when dreams disappear, when persistence and beliefs disappear, they no longer exist. Even if they are alive, they are already dead, wandering like a corpse, wandering woodlessly, and the memories of the past are all It has become a thing of the past, buried deep in rotten soil. When spring comes, waiting for the moment of blooming flowers.
"So, hang me~www.novelhall.com~ Oh, hang me, I will die soon."
Her chest seemed to be clogged with cotton, and she couldn't speak or shout, and even the tears from the corners of her eyes had disappeared, but her vision was blurred, leaving a halo in front of her eyes.
On the stage, the figure sat peacefully, holding the guitar in his arms, humming softly, raising his eyes slightly, and swiping his eyes filled with halo, you can see the guests in the bar who are concentrating on dining. No one cared about his performance at all. The murmur of clashing dishes could be faintly heard, but he didn't care either. The smile on the corner of his mouth was a slight squeeze, and the vicissitudes of life hoarse voice guided the memories back to the past.
The audience who could really understand, were completely stunned, staring at the figure deeply and deeply, the beer in their hands had gradually become warm, and the cigarettes on their fingertips almost burned their fingers, the table The coffee on the coffee table has slowly lost its temperature... but the sight is still reluctant to leave.
Pata, the soot fell like this, but no one paid attention.
In the lingering smoke, time has completely lost its meaning in the light and shadow. Simple chords and simple composition are so simple that there is nothing new, but the magnificence and magnificence of the story makes the language completely disappear. You only need to look at him. Indulge slowly in this way, and then indulge, leave tomorrow's things for tomorrow.
As for tonight? Even on the gallows, it seems that it is no longer important. The important thing is, have you ever traveled to every corner of the world? Do you really have freedom and dreams?
The narrative that came to me was soft and light, like elegant poems and moving legends, beating between his lips and teeth, and then I heard him humming:
"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die forever."
Please remember the domain name of this book's first publication:. Three heads mobile version read the URL:
A microphone, a wooden chair, a guitar, a beam of lights.The whole world is condensed into a stage, only one person and a voice are needed. That's all. Standing here, you can break the shackles of space and travel all over the world; you can also break the shackles of time and experience a long life. The line of sight fell on this stage involuntarily, quietly, just so quietly, gazing at the man in the center of the stage.He was adjusting the strings intently, desolate and vicissitudes of life, and seemed to be thrown into the vast sea of people without attracting any attention. Maybe it was the drunken tramp who was lying under the chair just now, but at this moment it has changed. He had to be different, and he couldn't even see his face and eyes. He could only vaguely feel the loneliness and alienation, bitter and painful, noble and proud temperament, and then he could no longer look away.In the dim halo, without warning, the fingertips of the tuning began to outline the strings. The simple chords seemed to have nothing special, but the musical notes that jumped between the slender fingertips rushed through the light and shadow. , Time stopped in this way, and then, the noisy discussion gradually disappeared, leaving only the trivial sound of the wine glass and the tabletop, the spoon and the coffee cup, leaving a lingering sound in the air.There was an illusion in the trance, the sound of the music began to become louder, little by little, and finally sounded clearly in the ear."Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon."Just the first singing voice, the mellow and hoarse voice rippled in the melody, like a bamboo-like palm in the red velvet slapped/picked randomly, soft and warm faint The temperature is transmitted through the fingertips, and the delicate emotion falls on the tip of the heart without any hindrance, firmly grasping every clue of the mind."Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon. I don't care about hanging, but pitifully, I don't want to be trapped in a grave forever. I have traveled all over the world."Amidst the gurgling singing, unrestrained and unrestrained, but in the smoke-like tail sound, there is a touch of sadness and vicissitudes, the faint bitterness lingers under the nose like the smell of cigarettes, a trace of hoarseness His voice was like plucking the strings, gently plucking the heartstrings, and before realizing it, he was deeply and deeply immersed in a halo of halo.He has reached every corner of the world, but now he must be trapped in the cold and darkness of a grave. Compared to death, the loss of freedom is even more terrifying. He doesn't mind the trial of hanging and the erosion of death, but he misses the freedom of flying and the wanton of dreams.The call softly fell on my heart softly, and my gaze stared deeply at the face under the halo. The drooping eyelids blocked all eyes, and the thick and slender eyelashes cast shadows on the soul even more. The fragility and pride in the depths were hidden tightly, and the handsome eyebrows moved closer to the center slightly invisibly. After going through the vicissitudes of life and suffering, they seemed to have left deep marks.Involuntarily, his thoughts followed the indifferent chords and moving voice to every corner of the world, and his mind was agitated. Time and space began to spread out little by little."Footprints are all over the corners of Kai-Phirado and Arkansas; wandering in the corners of Kai-Phirado and Arkansas. I'm so hungry, poor, a straw can hide me I've traveled thousands of times before.I don't know if it's an illusion. The light and upward corners of the mouth can be captured in the hazy halo, hidden between the beards. It seems not obvious, but the sparse eyebrows gently hum and sing a look of happiness and comfort, seeming to remember Wandering once.The scenery of Cape Girardo and Arkans is not awkward, magnificent, and not beautiful, but it still leaves an indelible mark in the depths of my mind, those wind, those trees, those sunshine, those The sky...just a call in my mind, happiness surged up, even if he was almost starved to death once, a straw was enough to hide his figure, but it was still a journey of happiness.That kind of pure happiness, crystal clear and translucent, without any impurities, sincere and simple.Even if you are impoverished, even if you don't have enough food, even if you don't have enough clothes, happiness is real. Unexpectedly, he could not help closing his eyes, gently swaying his body following the melody, letting go of his footsteps, and began to wander the world."Climbing to a high peak, where I strengthened my stand; climbing to a high peak, where I strengthened my stand. Carrying a rifle on my shoulder, holding a dagger in my hand, poorly, I have reached the end of the world."With the collision of reality and ideals, life became **** and cruel again. The Vietnam War, the United States moved all the young people across the country and threw themselves into the war. Then, during the wandering journey, he climbed to the peak. , Firmed up his position-he chose to join the war, reversing spears and daggers for the country.But now, the sorrow and loneliness between words are flooding up.Whose war was that war for? What is the insistence on the war for what? Who will remember those innocent lives? They all thought that they were serving their country, but they were just a fig leaf. They used their fresh and young lives to cover the politicians/persons of the White House. After they died in a foreign land, no one remembered their names, and they just turned into It's just a series of numbers.God, oh, God, he has reached the end of the world, wandering carefree, he has no food, he has no shelter, he has no fetters, nothing but music, but he once owned the whole world.Therefore, he would rather die, at least, what he had still existed.The whole gaslight bar was quiet. In the quiet air, the light and shadow really stopped. His mouth was full of bitterness and sorrow, but it was indescribable. Just staring at the figure on the stage quietly like this, sighing. But lonely, sad and at a loss, it seems that even the heart in his chest has stopped beating.There is still a touch of loneliness on the face that has experienced vicissitudes of life.The light was so bright and shrouded his figure, and the world outside the light disappeared completely, leaving him alone, alone and helpless; but he still straightened his waist and opened it. Chest, humming softly intently and intently, that firm belief has never wavered.Proud and noble, gentle and dazzling, low-key and gorgeous.No eyes, no movements, or even expressions are needed. Between gestures, just sitting there quietly, the voice completes the narrative. Those vivid and profound emotional fragments flow slowly in the melody, forgetting everyone. The existence of, but easily dragged everyone into his world.Listen, his singing has wings and is flying freely."The noose is wrapped around my neck, and they hang me high."Suddenly, the tip of his nose was slightly sour, his vision blurred, a touch of sadness and loneliness echoed in his heart, his singing was so light and gentle, and even with a smile on the corners of his mouth, he lifted up gently, whispering, " The noose wrapped around my neck, and they hung me high. As I died, the last word came from my ear: It won't be long before it will be over. Poorly, I've traveled the whole world."Unexpectedly, the warm tears wet the corners of his eyes, embarrassed, but after all, it was only a minority.Only the group of people who have really experienced the Vietnam War, only the group of people who have really experienced the 1960s, only the group of people who are really scarred and weather-beaten, and only the group of people who really touched the core of the folk song, only really calm down and listen. That group of people can hear the deep emotions in this shallow chanting tune.When freedom disappears, when dreams disappear, when persistence and beliefs disappear, they no longer exist. Even if they are alive, they are already dead, wandering like a corpse, wandering woodlessly, and the memories of the past are all It has become a thing of the past, buried deep in rotten soil. When spring comes, waiting for the moment of blooming flowers."So, hang me~www.novelhall.com~ Oh, hang me, I will die soon."Her chest seemed to be clogged with cotton, and she couldn't speak or shout, and even the tears from the corners of her eyes had disappeared, but her vision was blurred, leaving a halo in front of her eyes.On the stage, the figure sat peacefully, holding the guitar in his arms, humming softly, raising his eyes slightly, and swiping his eyes filled with halo, you can see the guests in the bar who are concentrating on dining. No one cared about his performance at all. The murmur of clashing dishes could be faintly heard, but he didn't care either. The smile on the corner of his mouth was a slight squeeze, and the vicissitudes of life hoarse voice guided the memories back to the past.The audience who could really understand, were completely stunned, staring at the figure deeply and deeply, the beer in their hands had gradually become warm, and the cigarettes on their fingertips almost burned their fingers, the table The coffee on the coffee table has slowly lost its temperature... but the sight is still reluctant to leave.Pata, the soot fell like this, but no one paid attention.In the lingering smoke, time has completely lost its meaning in the light and shadow. Simple chords and simple composition are so simple that there is nothing new, but the magnificence and magnificence of the story makes the language completely disappear. You only need to look at him. Indulge slowly in this way, and then indulge, leave tomorrow's things for tomorrow.As for tonight? Even on the gallows, it seems that it is no longer important. The important thing is, have you ever traveled to every corner of the world? Do you really have freedom and dreams?The narrative that came to me was soft and light, like elegant poems and moving legends, beating between his lips and teeth, and then I heard him humming:"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die forever."Please remember the domain name of this book's first publication:. Three heads mobile version read the URL:
