It's like a distant call of a well known ghost.
Change breath's heavy apon the wind.
She yerns to know the other end of rejection.

Two broke souls rich in the passion of a uncertin day.
No money can touch that excitment of  just what comes next.
Sweet mercey  we exist on a favor we cant repay.


A old radio and room no bigger than   postage stamp.
***** windows give the best moonlit visions indeed.
Five star dream's I'll take a greezy burger and cold beer
my  hand inbetween her thighs.

Her eye's speak the  direction we shall take.
A devilish grin a twisted snake of plessure
leading to a old bed's dusty retreat.

But millions can't taste this moment.
Inside her plessure I grasp a key turned towards
the locked vessel to which she does give.

My nights are rich in splendor.
And  a endless river  in thought.