I love when the guitar cries, when it sings
How the drum hits like a meteorite
How the bass strings along not following not running
How it laughs at it becomes more complex
The music followed doesn’t always follow the rules of true bliss
Not quite filling all the spots or picking at them
Relentless
Nostalgic nothings the only reason they stay like loyalty to ghosts
And every one a conversation I will never have
Sometimes the loneliness poison poisons everything
Even the singing violin
Can’t get past the sickness it creates
Elucidating Questions 
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