guitarRomantic

she was born in a bottle rocket in 1929.

an armored patron breaks through today a militia group gears for parade before we know it, a second revolution industrial nature, forced seclusion and emblems of a royal power stamped in wax on the back of a letter don't mean much to me with this old head on a young body with a universal non-objectivity we dance to our favorite sounds to the beat of a brightly burning city and the only question posed is are you ready? streets like veins run through it's heart the cars cut like knives and they're tearing me apart

see, the thing was, i didn't care either. it was new, and that's what i liked. it wasn't stale and it didnt bother me like it would before. it was a new start, a clean slate. so the strings needed to be clipped, and fast. not all of them, just most. there were select pieces that needed to be kept, tightened even. but there was a surprising amount that i just didn't want. i wanted them gone, and that was that. some of those strings were a problem though, so i'm off to find some sharper scissors.