For Cedar I do not speak of love nor dare mention its names only what we're like without it. Walking down this deserted street vacant from future faces who would adorn me take me home after cognac or marijuana, which one was it? It's all the same either away or on trains the memories call back into being, the present remains at play with what's past only their bodies beside us only your mind with mine will tell, can lead us further beyond these long nights & dark days which hourly we cast our spells. next