I’m Still Fixing All The Cracks
Lost A Couple Of Pieces When
I Carried It, Carried It, Carried It Home...
I’m Afraid Of All I Am
My Mind Feels Like A Foreign Land
Silence Ringing Inside My Head
Please, Carry Me, Carry Me, Carry Me Home...
The door opens. It"s dim in the darkened room. The keys land on the black dining table, and the handbag slowly touches the ground. A few long steps across the black floor towards the even darker living room. A golden line of sunlight shines on the snow-white, puffy carpet. A gray sofa, and on it a small body shivering in a summer blanket.
"Angie" speaks Ira quietly, and the green eyes, swollen with tears, peer up at him from the flaming face. This is not the woman who has whipped him in wild, lustful desire and sent him to the other world so many
