i wake up from afternoon napagain a cold lonely evening
and i pretend that i have cold
(thats what i do when i miss love so much)
and instead of my bike
i take a walk beneath those haunted neon lights
of this two year old township
and i feel i am getting old
and what i feel are all bombastic lines in my head
oh...to reconcile with my follies and follies of friends
the usual memories , losses and things left undone
the glories that i passed hiding
the urges that i denied
history seems like some criminal files
nothing inspires .......
random lines come to mind
"full of cunning passages and contrived corridors"
"the animals i had trapped have all become my pets"
i almost could disappear ..in this twilight air
this long lonely road
the evening engulfing me like a satin sheet
and i know this is not all
this is not all
(with due respect to Eliot and Cobain )