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Red, bright and sprinkled in light

Period blues and their consequent crimson emotion.

Yes sure there’s pain & toil, strain And often yes, I’m cooped up, lame But always I can feel the riffs Of some big thing going on within It hurts to sit up straight in pain It gets so dense, the blinding rain Its easy then, to look away, forget To wait, hibernate, sit it out again But there’ve been times I didn’t choose To (re)turn inward, let myself loose On all thats me, in all excruciation This pain, she’s sweet – if you can listen She’s quiet in her screeching as she’s shallow in her depths She tells me all these secrets when she’s quiet as hell She promises me gold while I’m writhing in her hues She tells me its a lesson – playing pain’s muse