Of Quiffs And GladioliNothing's changedI still love youOh I still love youThese lyrics repeat in my earFrom a night of MorrisseyThese past weeks I have been nothingI've kept busy, sureBut stop and I becomeThis emotionally blank canvasWaiting for the artistAnd who more 'artiste'Than Steven PatrickI'm fixed in the chairThe sound of the keyboard clunks and burns in my earsFrom occassional conversationAll else is silentMouse scrapes on woodTwo shortSharpClicksThose rising chordsSudden drumbeatHis voicePanic on the streetsFour simple words that atleast stir somethingIn this state I hang on every syllableAnd I could cr
Sta.sh
