Bad times around my head… the seven decrepit cows are always coming back
I lost people on the way, good people who will never come back, events that saddened my spirit and broke my smile. Dark moments so difficult to overcome.
What was thought to be a love story ended up in pure hell, and we won’t look at each other the same way again. It hurt, and it passed.
Storms are always above our heads, and we cannot control them, so we feel small and lonely. We feel like a good old blues sung in tears in front of a packet of marlboro and a sip of Scotch. We feel smoky, dismembered, we feel like dying soon, as if we’d already died from inside.
Got hidden behind substances, experiences, dark chambers with dim lights and slow pace hearts with fast burning banknotes machines…
…and nothing could ease our souls.
But we then thought of you, waiting downstairs willing to get us away from shit in a simple twist, already ready, always gleamy, always noisy, and many a thought disappeared.
The pure joy of freedom rumbling inside the heart of the beast, breeze in the face, a happy heart dancing to the motor driven soul that carries you. The thrill of speed, beautiful danger around each corner. There’s always a new sunshine.