The Song Remains the Same

A song is a boomtown raised from the soil of our joys & sorrows. It’s springtimes fresh off the vine & drunken guns shooting down the moon. A song moves bodies on dance floors & entangles lovers in sweaty beds. It’s a melodic prayer, an aural north star. Never closes its doors to beggars or highrollers. A song is mud-honey & shotgun kickback. Flattens out that dull ache in your heart to a sliver of light wrapped in a wish. A song connects the line between the now & that long-ago moment when it first called your name. A song is me; a song is you. A song is a way to say I love you when the words fail us.

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