If only some of these girls were as beautiful as jazz heard over water when he's drunk and almost happy and aching for lost gone things. If only he hadn't loved one girl once, maybe he'd be chasing after useless things like bricks and mortar, dimes and quarters...If only his work was as beautiful as his smoke rings.

They don't even last forever, they just hang and seem to shimmer for a while. And he thinks, "Sometimes I shine!" but he has no means -- that's okay, he's got no ends. He's just cocooned by a company that's scared, that rank and file. Hey, night time sundial! Time to call up your old friends and find out if you're still friends.

From his window he can sit and watch the sky change colour, and each day the sun makes its leap and fails and falls in a puddle in the corner. And the seasons just stroll but they outrace his soul and hypnotize him as they roll around each other.

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