i find the creativity itching to come out and even though it doesn't (what?... you thought i'd tray to pass off the last bunch of entries as creativity?... come on, don't you know me?... don't you remember?... and she's buying a stair way... or another mother's little helper... or maybe just singing in the dance band on the titanic, sigh... there was a time), i vaguely remember the rhymes and music that used to be me... ah, the written gardens... thousands of those rhymes and writings were uploaded and then deleted from the web, but most are still on paper in boxes in storage waiting for the one who cares to read them and share, even if that happens after this body dies... i used to be the hopelessly hopeful romantic... and now, that's what i'm left with perhaps, to be the hopelessly hopeful morbid romantic...
like a second cousin, twice removed... or twice amused, for that matter...
wide awake at 4am, you know, but don't let it get you down, it's only castles in the air and candles in the wind burning on a starry starry night... it's just honesty...
and the last two can be played below...
click to listen to song
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