Soul fantasies linger on the dancefloors of memory, transport forgotten sins from then to now, nostalgia has a habit of wiping cracked slates clean, past discretions fade with time, leave only slightly soiled fragments and a bittersweet taste that only returns when you hear that chord, that note, fullblown by the chorus, it is easier to look back than exist in the illusionary present, 'could have been' a refuge from 'to be'....
Where have all the good songs gone?
A boy sits in a room in his father's house, reaches into his father's past to find comfort, the words he hears speak a language only he seems to understand, his friend's don't quite get it, or maybe they just don't want to, the boy finds a semblence of momentary peace in the moments, the sounds reaching through the headphones to caress his heart, this is real art, he whispers wordlessly, and closes his eyes to today, drowning in a yesterday that he knows nothing of....
Where have they gone?
Songs carry our memories, take us to a place once lived, most times, they bring with them the magic of moments, sometimes, only sometimes, the pain they bring chokes....
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