Long and far between the days to which I live and dream; come hither to your old soul, and drown yourself in tears, upon the banister of night. Climb slowly until you teach yourself to live and let live. Feel the passage of clarity and the space of time, nothing stays behind in this world to the next, we can argue only in the latest faded words.
Your one moment is my moment too, your fear is my fear and we are beyond the sick rock that we walk on; your claims are bare and your still stare clings to life and life only. “Oh brave fortuna” o’ brave truth, where are you sleeping at this violet night, and why do you look so soft and familiar?
“If we can get through this, you know we got our wish. We took it to the level, and we held out for more. And isn’t it a trist. The things we might have missed. Of stickin’ with the wrong too long to know what right was.
And isn’t it a shame? We have only ourselves to blame. At least thats what they tell you when you take the back door.
But it just never fit; The thought of makin’ it end. Lets leave it to the pretty boys and girls in the show.
Why do we go away?”
The days pass and winter lasts forever when you live in Texas. There is a book all about it, you’ve read it even though it’s far from being written. Each earth story makes a difference; and all the dingy colors hop around like shiftless touches, with their photosensitive poems and pink metals.
And I can only look into your eyes with a long distance stare; I’ve disarmed myself of all those sinister walks that came along inside “the deep without”. I can look at the sun, and notice that three and a half smiles hurt more than one, or that the stone entry ways of my dreams are still there, just as they were when I was a child.
