The bells rung out to bring in the day, but I was wrung out and just wanted the noise in my head, the thread that wormed its way in to stay.

I continued along listening to what was wrong with the world that I live in and then when the sounds decided to fade I poured a coffee, cleaned the sheets and made up my bed for another night listening to sounds in my head.

I'm never sure if they're real or just some malady that afflicts me,
It could be the loneliness of the awful mess that besets me or it could be too few cups of cheap coffee or too many glasses of cheaper wine.

In time
because time gets in everywhere someone may let me in on the silence that falls in another place and I'll see the hands on another face where that face is of beauty?

Believing I will I still await the sounds to come back.
If time is the track that I run on then time seems to run on without me.
The bells are still rung out and I am still strung out and can't get enough
of you.