So now - a key-strike compresses into the clacky-plastic slab, and now - the dust leaps from my heart as it begins to ba-bum.
Some songs get you going and remind you who you are. This morning as I drove to work, this song came on and I listened especially intently to the words.
I've lived with//Vicariously numb fingertips//I have sat//In surrogate silence//This life is mine to save//Leaving cut roses on your grave
Not a one deserves to be proud except servants and benevolent kings
There's nothing left inside// the ink well is dry, my hand was stayed// nothing more to confide// silence on an empty stage