And Turn The Speakers Up.

THIS IS MY LOT, BEAUTIFUL STRANGERS.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Play the piece one more time, I lost the melody somewhere at the back of this mind. Together we could try to fix it, maybe for a while, maybe for a long long hello. I still wake up smiling, not pretending, like a masquerade gone wrong. I think if I had an empty letter addressed to me, I could promise the ink will not run when I sing it a reply back to sender, back to my beautiful stranger. Did you feel it when I felt accomplished yet incompetent and almost despondent all at once today? The metro has more than empty faces now, I see people painting the town grey- like the shade we all embody, like the colour that runs down an old virgin wall. I hear the tune now, it reeks of melancholy. Scratch that painful echo, leave it for the Bedlam lovers under the starless sky. Tonight we'll piece the sun, only a couple of moonshines shy of polished musicians; the sun, and all its moments it gave me to date, of you, of us, of them, of fear and of amazement.

TonFlyingHigh!11:18 PM

***