Ourselves

A crisp lightness fills the spaces and brings a glimpse of spring to the winter day. I have nothing but you and my pain, which starts my mind racing.

A flimsy love between two independent souls both long for the rain to wash their sadness away; Two souls haunted by their fear of failure, not being the favoured child, and living with their desire for perfection.

If we didn’t need money in this capitalistic hell, we would be free to be ourselves.

I’m on the train now going to ruin my life again, but I have you through the ages: you and me against the world, ready to live once again.

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