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Please stop playing so right.
Tell that man to get off the drums, the beat sets the rhythm with pain that makes my hands shake whenever I try to pour myself another shot of whatever this alcohol happens to be.
Who is that on the guitar? The rifts she plays seem to slide through her fingers, it screams to the tips of my body. Every note struck flows through me and makes me go astral in the pool of her sound waves.
My man on the bass, what happened to you? And why do you look so much like me? I see your eyes following that of the singer, your pain in the low tone that just barely seems to make the whole composition fit. Your tears make your notes hit differently, not sour, not sweet just a melody of mild.
And the lady in... The colored dress... The main attraction. They're sorry I'm sure, maybe if they had felt your lyrics they could still hold you. But, oh, your voice, good.. God above, it reeks of the sweet pain that is only akin to a love lost, to a death of a friend, a lover, a child. You hurt, you sing. And your hips sway to the tune of what all men want to see.
Can you all turn it down a bit? It's a bit too real.
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geez that's deep.
Replywoah. this is ethereal
ReplyThat was really good! Holy cow that was really - I don’t even know - but I loved it😦
Reply