As a songwriter, I sometimes have thoughts or ideas that wouldn't particularly make a good song. This is the outlet for that stuff...

Monday, September 1, 2014

That Record


All I ever seem to recall is

How it felt

Colors languish

Music embellished by a memory that

Dances

Like my own Pinocchio

The pops and

clicks

Of needle on vinyl are

Buried

With the imperfections of the

Day


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