The sound of a piano. Chopin's music fills the gap left by people who have gone to bed. I have been here before. Nights full of memories. Things which could not be achieved come and go. I need to get back to songwriting. Perfection means no result. You look for perfection and as you cannot find it, you do not write. Sometimes I feel like writing an epic 20-minute long song.
It seems to be so easy to achieve. It is really far, far off my hands. Time! What have I done?! A little light has appeared on this dark place, but I do not think that it will stay in or maybe I just need to take advantage of it, and now the question is; how? Culturally how? Too late? What?!
Rain. And all of a sudden, they sky turned yellow, then red and lastly, violet. It was weird, but a nice natural show.
Now this is a peaceful place. I am lost. Too many lights. I have seen it all. A place for sounds is what I am looking for now.
It seems to be so easy to achieve. It is really far, far off my hands. Time! What have I done?! A little light has appeared on this dark place, but I do not think that it will stay in or maybe I just need to take advantage of it, and now the question is; how? Culturally how? Too late? What?!
Rain. And all of a sudden, they sky turned yellow, then red and lastly, violet. It was weird, but a nice natural show.
Now this is a peaceful place. I am lost. Too many lights. I have seen it all. A place for sounds is what I am looking for now.
