Tag: patti_smith

There are many things I remember of this time
The merry-go-round was slowing down
Or maybe I was seeing a little too clearly
It seemed as if the whole of the world was slowly being stripped of innocence
The whole place had the fragrance of oolong
I wandered the halls seeking its spirits, dead or alive
Why should I take the long road?
It was hot in the city, but I still wore my raincoat
No one expected me. Everything awaited me
It occured to him that nothing was going to happen
His young eyes stored away each play of light
To be an artist was to see what others could not
I cherished the idea that one day I would write a book
I was never going to be become anything but myself
I was a bad girl trying to be good
I have vague memories, like impressions on glass plates