you slide along me, like
a squeak and thrill
of fingertip on strings
along chunk chug chords
with drive, in a line
and nothing but beat
coming up behind
well you can't stop now,
and neither can I but
this is nothing like beautiful music
we make
since we're not recording,
we'll play back the tape
and fix everything, perfect
and fake
in one take
1 comment:
This imagery is perfectly woven in without belaboring. It is seamless.
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