Seasons Run Long

Sober before the score, lost as I left the door.

Memory dim before the trim, lights above shining rim- outdoors begin to grim.

Grin below the diner, dinner never finer- smells steadily kinder.

Grinder for the coffee, no longer craving toffee- slowly dying softly.

 

Summer 13'

 

Hope ya like the tunes.

Bombs Diggin Up Hill

To whom it may concern- have a nice end of the summer.