The building is riddled with bullet holes. The holes admit a light both piercing and beautiful. It falls on cracked floorboards and rich soil. This raw earth, seeded by wind, rodent and bird, is not lit from above in the wake of disaster, finally able to sustain growth.
"I know Truth is like an arrow,
I was a balloon."
Been writing songs for more than twenty years now. Some things you get better at, some things remain a mystery, but in a pinch just about any old tool will do!