songs about roving, rambling and plain hard luck & photography from the other side …

but I could hear the ghosts singing on the other side

© Storebæltsbroen, Dänemark, 2015, Florian Fritsch

I left this town with the throttle open wide / The heater was blowing but nothing inside / Could ember the darkness or swallow my pride / When I left this town I was running (Jeffrey Foucault)

all them things that seemed so important vanished right into the air

© Storebæltsbroen, Dänemark, 2015, Florian Fritsch

But I remember us riding in my brother’s car / Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir / At night on them banks I’d lie awake / And pull her close just to feel each breath she’d take / Now those memories come back to haunt me they haunt me like a curse / Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true or is it something worse / That sends me down to the river though I know the river is dry  / That sends me down to the river tonight (Bruce Springsteen)

wherever I have gone the blues come following down

© Kopenhagen, Dänemark, 2015, Florian Fritsch

Try another city, baby, another town / Wherever I have gone / Wherever I’ve been and gone / Wherever I have gone / The blues come following down (Jackson C. Frank)

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