but what comes after the next after the next
the romance keeps notching up the gears in strict concordance. i stopped listening for a while to the beat of the drum. i love you, but you don't love me. and then sometime somewhere something changed and i was elsewhere in the head carrying on a process as if that decision could never be reversed. nonsense. screws tightened. you could no longer pass over in silence the beating drum. do you hear it as well? it is a monday evening so sure why not blast away while their is still the shine of the weekend in our smiles. this is our weekend babes.