Firelight streaking shadows in the depth of the night I pluck a few strains on my old guitar recalling the soft fragrance of bygone days foretelling a strange tomorrow...
We talk in a language coming from our souls straining to be heard in sync with the moment of bliss making riffs that portray the betrayal of trust and our lasting sorrow...
The night resonated with the gentle thump of the bass guitar as i floated above the lower end syncopating the rhythm within the smoke from the hot and fiery marrow...
I found my being wandering on random notes that we created like mighty gods because we are the creators of melody without the bottlenecks within the narrow...
Midnight turned and we were in the wee hours of the misty morning the dying embers still trying to give flame to our thoughts with potent lines hitting straight as an arrow...
