Half-hidden in the fog the bridge draws near. Next to it a figure stands, face half hidden by a hood, half shown by the candle in her hand. Blonde hair, sly smile, something perverse to be seen in her face. Her eyes are the calm of a breeze but I'm feeling the adventure of the shadows. Something's lurking near by. She takes my hand and makes a run for it. When we're in the clear we stop to look at the Moon and awe at its beauty. We transcend. By the time we come back we're surrounded by the onlookers in the shadows - they're afraid of the light. Nothing else to do. All that's left is love.
Soundgarden - 4th Of July
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