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Jul 20, 2010 16:07

These new strings sound so old.
Like they were born into ancient skin
Wrinkles and folds taking the form of rust and peeling metal.
Strings that ring as if they already know what you're trying to say
and they've just been waiting for you to make up your mind and say it.

It's hard to paint a picture
when you're working with a puzzle
pieces won't ever fit together
like paint and paper do.

I drew lines a long your portrait
with a stylus shaped like safety
safety found in the corners
of never knowing me

So I work like a magician
slaving through the hours
Form some kind of proof
that I am still in love with you.

I'd shatter walls of stone
Go sleepless at night, you're not alone
Run these streets at night
looking for some answers
bring home a pack of french cigarettes
just for you.
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