I want to write more, I feel I haven’t really wrote much lately. I have all these ideas, I have these songs that I want to listen to but, I haven’t got around to it.
I remember us older, and you were sitting right there. The flowers on the curtains fell just an hour ago and time sat over there laughing at us.
The angels came back to me living lives in quiet desperation I never knew the dreams they were singing, now I’m married, just carried, dry rice at me feet.
Preface – White Butterfly White Butterfly, what are you doing? Do you just write letters in the wind all day. I don’t understand anything about what you do. I feel the wind would blow right ...