filmme

tonight...

I finished my film.

Three and a half years.

A girlfriend.

Fifty grand.

Tears.

Pain.

Sweat.

Anguish.

All turns to mere memories and obstacles standing in ruins behind me.

---


It's hard to write a song with bitter fingers
So much to prove, so few to tell you why
Those old die-hards in Denmark Street start laughing
At the keyboard player's hollow haunted eyes
It seems to me a change is really needed
I'm sick of tra-la-las and la-de-das
No more long days hacking hunks of garbage
Bitter fingers never swung on swinging stars, swinging stars

---

I love you all.