Aqualung is eying the girls as the pretty panties run and I'm transported
A chill lofted garage retreat
A haven for wet dreamswandering
Wondering who and where we'll be
Our icy breath reminds us of where we are not, snug in some well made bed with breakfast waiting.
Instead at 4 or 5 we'll wander to Dunkin's, as if he's a townie that bought the place from Ronnie Depaulo.
The music plays on now stripped tapes or vinyl from another age.
Another hit, another precious breath, and everything's good that sits on a Ritz, and the strings are new, the fingers fresh and young and ready, as oblong hours bend together, orchestrated by our hearts and breath against the chill.