Sol

Hello
I’ve waited here for you
Everlong

Tonight
I throw myself into
And out of the red out of her head she sang

Come down and waste away with me
Down with me
Slow how you wanted it to be
I’m over my head, out of her head she sang

And I wonder
When I sing along with you
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when
She sang

Breathe out
So I can breathe you in
Hold you in

And now
I know you’ve always been
Out of your head, out of my head I sang

And I wonder
When I sing along with you
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when
She sang

And I wonder
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when

“Everlong” – Foo Fighters

——

God, I love acoustic guitars.  And Dave Grohl.  And rock.  And sugar, spice, and everything nice? And, and, and these are a few of my favorite things…

I’m almost out of beer (the horror!), but fear not, I picked up a bottle of Balvenie on my marathon shopping trip to Champion this evening.  Well, more like morning to me, but who’s keeping track?

This was the third day in a row that our little Fonty bubble was blessed with good ol’ fashion sunshine. Oh glorious day, which I decided to sleep away, tossing, turning, and swiveling to keep my face awash in the mellow rays streaming through the bedroom window.  After god knows how long, I feel rested. But, but, but.  But nothing.  I enjoyed my day off, with naught on my mind but for everything.  Push.  Pull.  Stasis.  I’ll have the latter; Menu Maxi, please.

——

After putting back a healthy fifth whilst attempting to hammer out this post, here’s the Balvenie post-mortem:  Very mellow, silky smooth, hint of honey (though this could be from the sherry casks and not so much the bees), slight touch of wood, tiny eentsy-weensty bit of bite, definitely better straight-up than on the rocks, and devilishly deceiving.  Cheers, dearest reader(s).

Here’s to tomorrow, and a new day.