“I run, sometimes I cry… Sometimes…”
I get so romantic…
Lately I’ve been trying to escape my thoughts. Isn’t it funny that when you drown yourself in work you don’t get many thoughts? Bygone.
Anyhow… Been trying to escape my thoughts and I have sort of succeeded.
But this rainy afternoon… I’m listenin’ to Swing Chicago and remembering the beautiful days. How could you possibly not listen to Swing Chicago? Oh, I know, coz you’re not like me. Sigh. There are few people like me out there. Or at least I have only found one or two so far… And I don’t mean boys. I mean people. And I don’t mean I’m special. I just mean I’m… Well, I… Me.
How can you not like the swinging days?
The evenings when you’d meet with your friends in a swing c lub and dance the night away?
I wouldn’t be cold if I’d sleep covered in Louie and Ella’s voices.
Happy feet… Dara-da. Happy feet… Dara-da.
How would it be possible for Louie not to make yer heart vibrate?
How will it ever be possible for me not to remember the way you wore your hat? The way you sipped your tea? The way your smile just beamed? The way you changed my life?
It won’t.
There’ll always be mornings when I’ll wake up and remember every beautiful dream I’ve locked. And that’s good. Because someday I will be the person that I used to be.
So swing with me… Swing me to your dreams. Swing you to mine. Swing me to that misty mornin’. And then leave me there. Forever.
How can you describe the beauty of a thought? A thought you feel exploding inside of you. Flying and swinging up and down your spine. “Whenever I hear that song of mine.”
“How many stars are in the sky, I’ll never know… What fire lights a firefly… I’ll never know. What happens to this heart of mine each time you hold my hand… Sometimes the things we love the most we never understand.
I never thought these eyes would see an angel’s glow. What miracle brought you to me, I’ll never know.”
It might as well be spring…
I will love you always and, yes, I will be home for Christmas… “If only in my dreams…”
So meet me at Warwick avenue sometime… And then? Then… I won’t dance…
But I will admire you. From afar.
And, apart from the music… “I hear nothing, not a single sound on the streets of New York, but the beating of my own heart.” I don’t have any mail from you.
And, yes, I will be adding pictures next time, cause now I gotta go. 
