Can it be that we’re falling apart, from the fabric seams we cultivated.
Will the strands of our love, fray with time, now, tomorrow?
Eternal affairs in the heart and mind, don’t cease to refer the pink slips distributed.
Wandering about the gray parts of our inner souls, we forget the external love we have hastily shed.
By accident, or by sub-conscious design, we accept the faults of our actions.
Of our disgruntled mind.
Our dissenting protests to do the contrast.
Only to trip and then scatter, like a coward.
DELAFAYE’s single ‘These Days’ had come to us with the package promising of love. Then it turned our minds with its shoegazy introspections and musings of hypotheticals of the practical.
He’s working hard. You should work harder to listen to his songs.