An aureate thread, lining a carmine welcome, spun and glowing, directing a couplet of thieves beneath the sun to safety. To comfort. To chicken and breakfast at all hours. No fractured contrabands in this haven uniting lost souls, hiding behind the empty space built up...by both...after the realization that with every bit you give you lose that much more.
I came upon a skyscraper,
His eyes as young as god.
And a blue screen's as close as I've come,
to staring at a star.
Can't hear the song to sing along,
can only hear guitar.
There's a certain way we roll.
And sex, drugs and rock has always been a big part of that.
Windows down and the speakers are a time machine.
AM/FM Radio Request, 8 track..tape cassette. Summer-memory-mix-compact disc, your's and mine iphone 5 playlists.
Choose your era, press play.
Sushi and movies, Drugs and parties.
Meet at a diner, make love in a dorm room.
Cuddle in a car in the parking lot,
Blaze like a bonfire on the play ground,
Choose your era, press play.
Crazy Hippie yuppie beatnik be-boy bebop kabbalah jam sessions.
Drug crazed, Bleached Cocaine, Hair band, heavy metal, heroin inspired song writing.
Alt rock haze, hip-sub-counter-culture-couture-bohemian scene queen seen dreaming on the outskirts of the in-crowd.
Choose your era, press play.
And now it's Heaven or bust.
Gonna burn out like bam roman candles or duds,
Super Nova or Black Hole,
but I'm aiming for somewhere inbetween a limosene and an overdose.
Suicide or salvation, 9 to 5...or a 3:30 Train to anywhere.
California plane ticket, east coast boating accident, car crash...or a 3:30 train to anywhere...just take me.
Choose your era, press play.
..and then
Cut out every verse and chorus
Skip right to the very end.
Then play every song ever written on loop...
...on loop...
...on loop...looped silence.
until your tape deck turns to sand.
-RW
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