ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're trying to be so quiet?
we sit here stranded
though we're all doing our best to deny it
and louise holds a handful of rain
tempting you to defy it
lights flicker from the opposite loftin this room the heat pipes just cough
the country music station plays soft
but theres nothing, really nothing to turn off
just louise and her loverso entwined
and these visions of johanna
that conquer my mind
in the empty lot where the ladies playblindman's bluff with the keychain
and the all-night girls they whisper of
escapades out on the D train
we can hear the light watchmanclick his flashlight
ask himself if it's him or them
it's insane
louise, she's alright, she's just nearshe's delicate and seems like the mirror
but she just makes it all too concise and too clear
that johanna's not here
now, little boy lost
He’s sure gotta a lot of gall
To be so useless and all
Muttering small talk at the wall
While I’m in the hall
Oh, how can I explain?It’s so hard to get on
And these visions of Johanna
They kept me up past the dawn
Inside the museumsInfinity goes up on trial
Voices echo ‘this is what
Salvation must be like after a while’
But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles
See the primitive wallflower freezeWhen the jelly faced women all sneeze
Hear the one with the moustache say“Jeez, I can’t find my knees”
Oh, jewels and binocularsHang from the head of the mule
But these visions of Johanna
They make it all seem so cruel

The peddler now speaks to the countess
Who’s pretending to care for him
Saying, ‘name me someone that’s not a parasite
And I’ll go out and say a prayer for him.’

But like Louise always says
‘you can’t look at much can you man?’
As she, herself, prepares for him
And Madonna, she still has not showed
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
The fiddler, he now steps to the road

He writes everything’s been returned which was owed
On the back of the fish truck he loads
While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play
The skeleton keys and the rain
And these visions of Johanna
Are now all that remain
..............................................................................................................................
all pictures from weheartit










They say that dreams are only real as long as they last. Couldn't you say the same thing about life?
The trick is to combine your waking rational abilities with the infinite possibilities of your dreams. Because, if you can do that, you can do anything. 

The worst mistake that you can make is to think you're alive when really you're asleep in life's waiting room.
On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion.
Life is a matter of a miracle that is collected over time by moments flabbergasted to be in each others presence. 
Did you ever have a job that you hated and worked real hard at? A long, hard day of work. Finally you get to go home, get in bed, close your eyes and immediately you wake up and realize... that the whole day at work had been a dream. It's bad enough that you sell your waking life for minimum wage, but now they get your dreams for free.










"The Honest Scrap award comes with a caveat or 2. Firstly you have to tell your readers 10 things about you they may not know, but that are true. Secondly you have to tag 10 people with the award." 
