Sunday evening, the glow from my computer is lighting up the room. I’ve been working on a new project called, something or another.

The sirens outside are ceaseless, they start of quietly and then build up to a scream, only to slowly melt away into the distance.

The usual sounds of airplanes overhead, subway several blocks away and the occasional loud voices on the street.

Lost, searching for answers.

Knocking down the doors and asking, can you spare any ideas?

Black moonless sky falling down upon me, getting closer, running out of time.

Sunday evenings can be that way…

Monday morning, radio screams, 35 degrees and sunny. January, lost in the middle of nowhere. Threatening winds, bring threatening skies, bringing weather that threatens us all

I need to run outside and scream so you can hear my voice.

Do you want me to run outside and scream out my voice, explain my choices and describe my ideas?

Rain drops keep falling on my head…

I ain’t no clown, I ain’t no doctor, I ain’t nothing much.

Sometimes I dream of Dinah, sometimes I dream of Barbara, sometimes I dream about Jerusalem and our 21 days of mountainous heights and those valleys.

Do you remember? It’s been a really long time and I wrote that song for you. I had no idea where I was going but you touched me on that morning and you torched my heart.

Mexican nights, into the early next mornings, us making love with rosemary under the stars, and under the moon, with the sounds of the waves as our soundtrack.

The birds they flew above us, as the clock turned towards us and laughed as we tried to hold on.

It was all gone, it was all wrong and I wrote that song for you and not for her.

Can we go back? Just for one night?

Sunday evenings, the dreams are gone… Where did it all go wrong?

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