Like the train on the tracks, days go by with ease and despite maybe the odd delay, they’re always going to end up with the fulfillment of peace and quiet, however much I’m looking back out the window.
I’m knocking off the tracks from a mixtape that got itself wedged into my right atrium and after being spat out on to the floor with a blind eye, is slowly moving back down my throat with a gleeful smugness that does nothing but hurt.
Train and train and plane and plane; a blur forever fading out before my eyes while I stand still for a moment, mesmerised. And with a breath, my legs turn slowly and walk away with a purposeless ponder, every so often scanning the horizon behind me. At least I can imagine the clouds having great green eyes that cry the whitest tears in the winter and hibernate peacefully in the summer… At least I have my imagination.
Doug Burr narrates this ambiguously painted picture to me often through the medium of Graniteville. I sometimes listen to this song particularly when my sentences get too long for comprehension and my words get so dreadfully vague, not even my greatest friend could understand. Burr has a good voice and a good interaction with the instrument he plays and usually, most creations come down to the interaction they contain, however indirect or direct it is.
Doug Burr – Graniteville
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