Infrared Music

Stereophonic, systematic explosion Colors flying wild in every direction Chipped off of skipping records still in a spin Bouncing off walls leaving songs there within Bruising the windows in rainbows and verse Leaving the house filled with flying debris Then there is you. Then there is me. A history gone tangled and tied melody Old scratchy records in vinyl to breathe still as the dusting of age on the sleeve We are this history. We are this rhyme. Barely ahead of our own life and time Soon to be traded for laser disk light Soon to be relic of brilliance. Let me dance on in the grooves of your vision Splash me with colors not seen with the eye Infrared music gone stereophonic left on my lips in the wake of goodbye...