©2023 michael raven
though the song fades away through the mists and ages i find myself still dreaming about charlotte sometimes in that lonely place inside her heart her splintered head where all the people seem to fade away and everyone dares not cry i ghost through tomorrow with blindfolded eyes i wait and wait on that quiet dirt lane kismet wheel turning for charlotte sometimes
Feeling melancholic these past few days and, when that happens, songs like Charlotte Sometimes play inside my head. Like a teenage kid, I have vague ideas of what I might say to Charlotte if I met her, but the truth is, I’d clam up. Same thing with Alice. Same thing with Siouxsie, if you want to include real people in this menagerie of fiction. Or David Bowie, were he still alive, if you think it’s just women who will make me gobsmacked. Not sure what the point it in this paragraph other than to record random thoughts.