It’s a bruised and a fallen sky / Pressed all up against us / And it’s just as true, so far away / But I can be there by breakfast / I just drive on through to you / So as the past goes breaking by / Where are you tonight? (Richard Buckner as sung […]

Some toast the night as each day begins / Wearing shadows in between / But I close my eyes until once again I can dream / Of little birds catching fireflies / Until the darkness pulls them down / And little worlds hung on fire lit eyes / Tryin‘ to come a little closer now […]

For the first time he wished he were far away, lost in a deep, vast country where nobody knew him. Somewhere without language or streets. And he dreamed about this place without knowing its name (Ry Cooder)