I wanna hear the way the air sounds, when a set of words are said. Wanna look up at the stars and feel their knowledge for all the days ahead.
The memories still gloriously looping - going back to - still looking up into - the silver walls, late in the night....as the room burns with the sizzle that equipment lights make after the film shoot is over.
Zapping the frenzied fragments you remember between the leaps up&down stairs --- making sure everything is just right, yeah it's all right -- clad all in black and letting the night just roll over...
Best part of this mad young life of ours. Let me lean back out of frame and just smile at creating a world inside a room.
And then it's slow-dancing in the room to say goodbye. Then it's the smell of champagne and sitting with your team one last team. We're wrapped and life is good.
Driving home barely before this brown city awakes.
When we think of it - in that style of messages - there's not enough I could ever say to you! All this great world in our artist minds.
And then it's slow-dancing in the room to say goodbye. Then it's the smell of champagne and sitting with your team one last team. We're wrapped and life is good.
Driving home barely before this brown city awakes.
When we think of it - in that style of messages - there's not enough I could ever say to you! All this great world in our artist minds.
We're just letters and 'ports. I'll meet you there every time. Let's go where the bricks contain red-infused bar vibrations of weekend regulars and wood floors from decades past. The fellow puppeteers of this generation can be found there sometimes, talking so close of cinema - that their lips, they almost touch. The words, the stories, are just so savory. Sometimes more than the waiting kiss.
Never running out of the passion for life. And the pints, they help sometimes.
Smiling so wide, like the miles.
Smiling so wide, like the miles.
It's all there, waiting to be grasped. I can build for them the most marvelous sets for lust. Or I can whisper to you a lullaby about what life's all about.
Just looking up into it all, and hey, I don't have a name for the way something new+old feels like better breathing. Think the seasons of the mind, they're falling in love. Shouldn't we all?
What's the choice you'd make between the two? All our dreams, they're astounding. Electrifiying the movements. The waves, they churn. Take a swim in the midnight cotton sheets.
Won't it snow already? Craving the magic. We all need a taste of the season.
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