Written In the Afterglow

Songs making up for the lost rhymes Careless trips to the golden times Fingers lurking at the odd satin.. Boisterous spasms of pleasure pure Wrecked buildings and their darkness lure 'Loving' in spanish, and latin... Roaming around the rowdy roads Missed call alerts and silent modes Tossing technology at bay Dwindling cries of the humming bees Wounded kites, trapped in trees Memories build and Memories fray I see the world with freshly woken eyes Puerile camaraderie and the grown-up goodbyes Friends who hurt and lovers, forget.. People are not what people do They, mere puppets off the blue, Live in sin and are living late.. The weary ways of writing stories Of passion, of faith, of honourable glories Had never gotten into me A happy bird in the clear blue sky Over the hurt, pain, deceit, I fly Racing the wind and letting things be...