i heard a lion sing last night.
music wafting in and out the doors on the first chilly night of autumn, caught with the breeze and brought the beauty to the ears of the emo kids sitting on the picnic tables and gravel floor. pearly gates opened with mechanical girl and old singer. to be in the second half of your existence and still playing words that cause us to speak and emote gives reason worthy to the heaven-like metaphor. ester drang, is as we agreed, radiohead and grandaddy's love child...flowing softly from one form to another,still echoing outside the indoor mugginess and few circulating fans. as expected, cute girl and boy hold hands as their heads sway in time. they turn to face one another and smile or whisper in close proximity. the leaves in the trees blew in the wind, a rustle that when added to the sound waves of the indoors created a tranquil, dreamy state of mind.
pedro the lion. ear candy and mind becomes drugged in the beauty of it all. eyes slide from his face and the stranger across the room whose eyes, growing open and shut (uncontolled), relay his bliss in which we share. david bazan's voice rolls over me like honey. and i am happy.
music wafting in and out the doors on the first chilly night of autumn, caught with the breeze and brought the beauty to the ears of the emo kids sitting on the picnic tables and gravel floor. pearly gates opened with mechanical girl and old singer. to be in the second half of your existence and still playing words that cause us to speak and emote gives reason worthy to the heaven-like metaphor. ester drang, is as we agreed, radiohead and grandaddy's love child...flowing softly from one form to another,still echoing outside the indoor mugginess and few circulating fans. as expected, cute girl and boy hold hands as their heads sway in time. they turn to face one another and smile or whisper in close proximity. the leaves in the trees blew in the wind, a rustle that when added to the sound waves of the indoors created a tranquil, dreamy state of mind.
pedro the lion. ear candy and mind becomes drugged in the beauty of it all. eyes slide from his face and the stranger across the room whose eyes, growing open and shut (uncontolled), relay his bliss in which we share. david bazan's voice rolls over me like honey. and i am happy.
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