"Saturday night in the city. Beer and old music. Beer, thinks and sounds of the time. The old dreams appear writing the songs that always you promises to forget. The city always is cold. Always is grizzly like the breath that escapes after the puff of smoke.
However, we can not stay in the old dreams time. Songs become written lines of new worlds. Sounds of time arrive to finish in sounds without lyrics. However, this music take the life as take my mind the beating of the heart, the sights of their lips, the tearing of her skin on mine, just one more time, just one last time.
Tomorrow begins in few minutes. And the night will be day slowly in the fog. Always this city is cold and rainy. Beer is over and the old music was replaced by the beats and scratches. She dances in my mind and I don't see their face really, however I know that she exists. Where? I does not matter. She's a new dream. Beats are down and the shouts begin screams. Cool mist enters the veins and my eyes close easy.
Finally, the words are over too, beats remains and the old music is mixed with the new songs... a little of lyrics, a little of old dreams but she stay dancing in my mind. Gray becomes black, darkness, seconds over all the times. Saturday will be Sunday, next."
No comments:
Post a Comment