acastleblue
The blur...
- of full moon madness...
I must admit there are those moments beneath a silver moon when every hair stands up on end and feels electric, when you can flare your nostrils and smell scents like streams in the air... when the hearing becomes so acute you can hear the throbbing of her heart next to you ~ and every nerve tingles. And so your mouth becomes wet and you don't exactly know why.
Then for some strange reason time seems to slow down, down, down, and suddenly the moments bust open and fly by in a screaming blur! But you can never quite hold on to the memories. So you always wake up the same way “embarrassed“ because once again you've somehow lost your shirt and you wonder why your pants are torn. You look through the bushes and eventually find your shirt and your shoes. (Damn! The shirt is torn to… and you must have cut yourself shaving and somehow not noticed because there’s blood at the collar?)
Glancing down idly at your hand everything seems so normal again in the early mourning sun. Then it occurs to you that wasn't there a pretty young woman holding your hand last night? One with a sensuous lips and amazing curves ~ you can't quite remember her name (started with a K...maybe?) Oh what the hell, over the years you must have run through the alphabet a hundred times... Yet you can never remember their names or what became of them. The only thing that remains the same is that funny acrid, but also sweet taste in your mouth. You rub your neck and stand there puzzled for a moment.
Most mornings you head straight for breakfast but on mornings after full moon nights you always feel so full ~ “stuffed“ even. You walk on home feeling strangely satisfied, whistling a tune along the way. "Oh, what a beautiful morning!" .-)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFLQS12z8K4
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFLQS12z8K4
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFLQS12z8K4
The blur...
- of full moon madness...
I must admit there are those moments beneath a silver moon when every hair stands up on end and feels electric, when you can flare your nostrils and smell scents like streams in the air... when the hearing becomes so acute you can hear the throbbing of her heart next to you ~ and every nerve tingles. And so your mouth becomes wet and you don't exactly know why.
Then for some strange reason time seems to slow down, down, down, and suddenly the moments bust open and fly by in a screaming blur! But you can never quite hold on to the memories. So you always wake up the same way “embarrassed“ because once again you've somehow lost your shirt and you wonder why your pants are torn. You look through the bushes and eventually find your shirt and your shoes. (Damn! The shirt is torn to… and you must have cut yourself shaving and somehow not noticed because there’s blood at the collar?)
Glancing down idly at your hand everything seems so normal again in the early mourning sun. Then it occurs to you that wasn't there a pretty young woman holding your hand last night? One with a sensuous lips and amazing curves ~ you can't quite remember her name (started with a K...maybe?) Oh what the hell, over the years you must have run through the alphabet a hundred times... Yet you can never remember their names or what became of them. The only thing that remains the same is that funny acrid, but also sweet taste in your mouth. You rub your neck and stand there puzzled for a moment.
Most mornings you head straight for breakfast but on mornings after full moon nights you always feel so full ~ “stuffed“ even. You walk on home feeling strangely satisfied, whistling a tune along the way. "Oh, what a beautiful morning!" .-)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFLQS12z8K4
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFLQS12z8K4
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFLQS12z8K4