Ashes turn to dust,
Sunlight, into silver oxide films,
Dreams into alarm clocks.
Resolutions to change the world
Are futile.
I guess, I’ve got to adapt myself –
But,
Why should I?
The world is ripe, the seeds are sown From a 9tofiver i have grown Into a peddler of tales and rhyme While i fuel my other crimes Of creative pursuit through tune and tale And wit holds me when all else fails. So with six stringed passion and ambivalent fate I tango on, and before it gets too late.. Hope that the films and the songs dont dry.. And i hope you too will join me in flight.
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