i don't want to be a beautiful little fool
i want to chase the unknown.

and just like that
we were strangers.

Barcelona dreams
under Arizona beams
this city ain't big enough for the two of us.

I'm Bourbon Street
Locust night
Whiskey slow
Summer hot

And you Maiden Lane
History in your veins
Enough to satiate
Latin lips
That drip Spanish stanzas

and neither do i
think you're a tough guy
as the hackles on his back multiply
you can't look me in the ******* eye
oh you? i'd like to crucify.

i am home sick for a place that doesn't exist
no tea kettle upon a well loved stove
nor honey suckle on the old gate
only silence lingers- a thick fog now
and my visitors are far and few
guess withered hands don't write like they used to