the music is what i miss the most
nights out in what will always be a strange land for me
people who will always remain bizarre strangers
but the music is what pushed me -
the phonograph on the sand
the sunrise, sunsets entertaining ladies
capitalizing off of capitalism
with the music
always the music
in the background
as i fucked her on the cold black tile floor of a best friend’s bathroom
i do not know how i could ever forgive myself
if I ever moved back there
where angels fly through the clouds strumming harps
to sooth the soul of humanity below -
there is a reason the misfit music makers
migrate to that namesake city
and that music they create is epic
it’s everywhere, regardless of quality…
and i miss it
af
(written on pen and paper listening to my records)
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