a first draft

Feb 04, 2010 19:42

Sometimes I think I’m back
I wake up and imagine that I can go out and walk
The same streets
Follow the same beats
As I’ve done all my life

But this is a different instrument
On the same continent
The accordion that got squeezed tight
Every house, every brick
Close together like a deep sigh

Stockholm makes a different sound
An accordion that is dragged out
Houses where one has to shout
Across the massive spaces
and silent faces.
Where they always wants to make it into something else
Berlin, London, New York
How can we change it?

But I do love the sound it makes
and it breaks my heart
to see it change
There is warmth
And openness beyond the faces
Catching a strangers smile on the streets
a major treat in both places

It’s an important year for us
Me and my homes
Choices that has to be made
Shaking hands in investigations
Both lands in need of truth
and me just looking for a roof.

writing

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