My angel I promised her we'd be dressed in a cloud
Standing on pillars on fire singing out loud
Shot from truth and love, not darkness
With the moon under your feet
Where birth goes on and rides terror
My shine will be complete
With your fire your fire
My tremolo
You're my fire
Every so softly it grows when you don't wear your armor
Crushing the burden and confusion sour
Trembling high on every leaf
Raining light down on your belief
Oh my angel unburdened by the race
I'll go down burning in your embrace
On fire, on fire
My tremolo
You're my fire
Don't take away my shine
My shine is all I have
My heat, my love, my beauty and my glad
It worries me sometimes that I want love
And live a life of sad
My tremolo
Sweet baby, my fire
My desire, fire
Thanks to Lent I have some excuses for restructuring my habits and new changes in life. Easter is not far away, but come mid-March I will be well on my way to changing these patterns and will not feel the way I do now. Fortunately I am used to giving up vices and although at first it is difficult, I am familiar with the feelings and can adapt/adjust quicker than I used to. I can sew it up, slam it closed, replace it, return it, burn it off, run it down, lock it up, repress it, deny it happened, breathe it in and out again...
I started The Sun Also Rises today after a reference made in another book I am currenly reading. Hemmingway has a way of pulling me in-- and fast.
Happily I gave up my plans for the evening to read and plan.
Doing a lot of planning lately.
It's not a happy time for me...Not a happy few years.
But it will be.
It's not a joyful time, to say the least.
But apparently I have more evolving to do. Still have not learned my lesson.
I do have one thing going for me:
Indeed. She's all I need.
