static made old radio

broken bond builds with hours away apart that was always the way of it it was beautiful that night they told us we'd never be the same wisked worries away brushes sweat from a brow writes faithful little tunes sends old strip mall melodies home fromt eh war leaves notes on doorstep a life undone no more clacking at the heels every band needs an abbey road picture sits on stage we'll call myth the last of it

-unlike old stories told.

2003-12-23 | 3:39 p.m.
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