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| | The Music Box |
| created @ 08/25/2010 07:39 am |
| mum expired. [FRIENDS] |
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Our halcyon days never seem to slow;
Despite this enervating, steep plateau.
Shall we rehearse for the gold we see?
If they unite, they will let us be.
Change all the keys, secure all the locks;
Their chants sound nothing like your music box.
That box defines all the love we share;
Beautiful for a motionless square.
They don't see us as matching gloves
Raise our wings like two glowing doves.
Our time will tick like two mounted clocks
And sing to each other, like that music box.
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