Testo Thirteen

A flooded basement made an island; a spring and summer of songs in a kiss. It's too cold to be wearing only this. A dry mouth, a headache. Where's the heat in this car? But I'm moved by the stillness of the frozen day. Marvel at a few snowflakes, out of place. Forgetting I'll have to watch this whole year melt away. I remember when every face in the crowd had a story, and I forgot how it felt to play for a handful of friends. But somewhere underneath all those cigarettes and six-packs I'll awake to fresh fallen snow again.