Welcome Letter Wedding

tin tin

Obsessive. And repetitive. A music obsessive and repetitive. Hypnotic.
Tin Tin dyed, tinted tin tin, tin tin dyed.
I try to write on a story, to connect my thoughts. A story. I have it on the tip of ....., but it is not. And if I stopped to hear? Maybe the story is not for that, because I stopped feeling. Listen but not feel.
And to think that I would have many stories to tell. Stories of people who do not meet, or clashes, avoid to meet. That would meet, but then life.
is not the story. Yet I have it on the tip of ....
Tin Tin dyed, tinted tin tin, tin tin dyed. Tin tin dyed, tinted tin tin, tin tin dyed. Tin tin dyed, tinted tin tin, tin tin dyed.
I can not ringed the thoughts, ideas, emotions.
And the music goes. It should be an endless train of wagons in a flat of Arizona. It should be the race of who can no longer run. It should be a bike, pedaling, pedaling, pedaling. It should be far and away those who seek not have the courage to go. It should be what it was, he wanted it to be, but that could not be let.
Tin Tin dyed.
Like the skin of a dog, those Puppies who wear a fur coat of some size too big for them. No, the opposite. Here is the skin to be tight. As a skin. And if the shots a little more ', just a little', he breaks out.
The music goes, it's easier for her. Someone wrote it for him.
...............
The music is gone.