Edit history

Keys. Of the ivory kind. The provocation of me. Life exposed in a mere 3 minute jam. Even time for a puff, as cigarette smoke surrounds my horizon. Sometimes clouding judgement. Like an off key note. Shaken by your presence. So off centre. So off the page. But I like that. Nothings worse when a peasant tinkles on the 8th octave while I'm in my element. Disruption from corrupt minds. True to its form, this black and white picture-scape delivers its rise and fall, and a sweet, sweet melody just waiting for accompaniment.