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Complications arise in the turning of the world, some so simple, some so complex, all staggering.
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Simplicity, complexity. First guess, usually right. Not this time.
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I always hear an orchestra somewhere when I'm writing.
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Beauty is often wasted, and it's often a mask for ugliness.
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Looking back, taking time to reflect, that's something that's necessary for all forms of addiction
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From awhile back
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It's a long one..
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Oh, the complex feeling of love.
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It is what you take it as. I can't be the one to tell you what the song is about, I can only tell you how I think about the words I write.
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