•
Rating: Stopped at the traffic light, she smiles at me, gray air, but how can I say No. No! If it didn't exist, maybe we would be different. Different, perhaps not better, as long as there is Yes.
Here we are in an English meadow, melancholy petals in a clear sky embracing a smile. Melodies, voices, aromas. A gentle organ cleanses a landscape tinted with Smog.
Maybe folk, maybe pop, maybe the 70s, album covers with their own story.
So many strings, plucked guitars, melodies. Melodies between a cake with cream and Belle & Sebastian, captured by a Coppola.
Smile at the traffic lights, trees like Robin Hood. I'm not talking about the Magic Pear Trees, but open your umbrella and smile.
Gray air, I think and they play. They slap me, it's green.
Many Mary Poppins float down from above and a laugh escapes.
What a wonderful day
Loading comments slowly
