They can take our trombones
but we're all dancing together and what you don't do chops off our fists...but we can't be defeated...
Quick, fall in love with me,
to the sounds of strings between peals of brass
don't plan a life, don't think it through
don't promise me anything,
just dance with me forever.
I'm almost gone, like everyone else, leaving this city and it's beauty, rot and disintegrating growth. The desire to not come back is pretty strong. Not because I don't love this city, not because I don't love the people in it...but because I've been here longer than anywhere save the first place we ran...escaped...left... from. Or maybe some other reason, who am I to say.