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The city punched us square right in the face and at the same time, it lent us its grace. We'll find our answer, we'll leave no stone unturned because it would be a long walk home.
I've played the part to the script, before the rain. Here I am at the beginning.
In the bare bones of the unfinished house next door, the stage was set to set the score. The wind, it blew fiercely and I turned my face aside. Without a roof, all I could see was sky.
I've played the part to the script, before the rain. Here I am at the beginning.
From the bluff, in the distance I could connect the city's lights until they all made sense. Sporadic blips and steady beacons were all that I had to work with... but why should I organize? Let it wash over me, accepting life for what it's worth. Then maybe all this chaos will seem like an orchestra.
