Words & Music by Mike Power

I

We went to the place where sins are best forgiven by the passage of time (like every place). Where we felt a strange pride in holding ourselves together against such overwhelming odds. We struggled with strangers almost as strongly as we did with the strangers within.

II

We cut our words into puzzle pieces and in all of the rubble discovered new species of games. We tuned our guitars to the silence and sang up every song that we knew. We conducted our business with half-hearted discretion and broadcast our blues on our screens.

III

When the party was over we rounded up all of the discarded remnants of dreams. We promised each other we’d never forget all the beauty and joy we’d created and seen. After a few short centuries passed we were more than a little sad that all our dreams had come true.