Our dreams; cynical, ever changing. A fairy tale.                                               A harmony, crafted with impeccable resilience.                                                 Once inside a beach house,                 suddenly inside a butcher’s vain.     Our love in rhythm                                 in parade,                                                   in every struggle on stratosphere.   A rusted train through the oozing stars.                                       

Conflicting money, a villa, a rollce royace.                                               Bikini models feeding grapes,     warm skin, honey lips.                         A body of arts.                                         A middle aged painting.                       Butler in white uniforms running through corridors with their blues in mind.                                                         Money; this beautiful world; money. 

And a violin player in a suffocating metro.                                                         Some drunk nostalgia.                       An unknown smile, a crooked eye.   A murder with a sharp fountain pen. Utopia of the rain drops on balcony. A questionable mango.                    Unfulfilled kisses and sexual dissatisfactions.                                 Holding hands and firing guns. 

Paint away a road little girl paint away,every drops of your colours are pouring down.                                         Make them fly through the horizon and beyond.                                

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