Photography

Sunday morning is everyday, for all I care

Now springtime only reminds me of Tracy’s tears

I guess I keep on rambling

It’s hard to believe that I’m all alone

And I scream from the top of my lungs

Gold and silver blind the eye, temporary riches lie

Folks say Papa never was much on thinking

You set your mind on moving along

We, we will not be moved by it

You feel you sent them onto ground

5. March 202112. March 2021

Better hurry ‘Cause I’m leaving soon

27. February 2021

They never fall, they can never run dry

20. February 2021

If heaven falls, I’m coming too

5. February 2021

Come in all you jesters, enter all you fools

19. January 202129. January 2021

I think that’s well understood

16. January 2021