Whenever I venture downtown at night, I prefer to stay in the streets where all of the unseen action is. I'll assume a position up against a brick wall and quietly stare at all the strangers passing by, trying to read their faces. There's a multitude of characters that dwell in the city waiting to be 'discovered'. All you have to do is stand still, and they will come to you.
Like the old, withered lady wandering the city caverns, selling roses to the desperate drunks looking for love. A simple gesture that usually ends up in little red pieces on the grimy streets. Spread your love, Miss Rose.
An aged man walks the streets armed with a guitar and a booming voice that echoes off the old city walls. I notice this man is very successful at bringing strangers together to sing with him on songs like 'Love And Happiness' and '(Sittin' On) The Dock Of The Bay'. Spread your love, Mr. Guitar.
The silent police officer, much like myself, observes everything with a blank stare. It seems as if he's waiting for the worst to happen, a scuffle or an arguement to save him from the boredom of watching a street full of inebriated kids at 1:30 in the morning. Spread your love, Mr. Officer, if you have any.
The majority of other faces are merely replicas of each other. Young, smiling expressions that beam forth like an invincible army with nothing to fight for. They blend in with the gritty background, becoming one with the sights and sounds of city nightlife. There is a tangible energy permeating from the small gatherings that surround the bars, but it's a useless energy. Spread your love anyways.
You could spend your entire night gazing at the various people who fill up the empty streets without ever joining them. Sometimes, though, you need to partake in the surroundings. I pick myself up from against the wall and make my way to the nearest bar, ready to join the masses and fully prepared to spread my love.
Like the old, withered lady wandering the city caverns, selling roses to the desperate drunks looking for love. A simple gesture that usually ends up in little red pieces on the grimy streets. Spread your love, Miss Rose.
An aged man walks the streets armed with a guitar and a booming voice that echoes off the old city walls. I notice this man is very successful at bringing strangers together to sing with him on songs like 'Love And Happiness' and '(Sittin' On) The Dock Of The Bay'. Spread your love, Mr. Guitar.
The silent police officer, much like myself, observes everything with a blank stare. It seems as if he's waiting for the worst to happen, a scuffle or an arguement to save him from the boredom of watching a street full of inebriated kids at 1:30 in the morning. Spread your love, Mr. Officer, if you have any.
The majority of other faces are merely replicas of each other. Young, smiling expressions that beam forth like an invincible army with nothing to fight for. They blend in with the gritty background, becoming one with the sights and sounds of city nightlife. There is a tangible energy permeating from the small gatherings that surround the bars, but it's a useless energy. Spread your love anyways.
You could spend your entire night gazing at the various people who fill up the empty streets without ever joining them. Sometimes, though, you need to partake in the surroundings. I pick myself up from against the wall and make my way to the nearest bar, ready to join the masses and fully prepared to spread my love.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
Interpol's "Antics" is good. It gets better with multiple listens. In fact, I just wrote a review about it the Music section (in the thread "Interpol Antics"). Defintiely worth hearing, fi you liekd the first.
Great story, by the way!