My Apologies to Coincidence

Caught up in thoughts of space. The way that although faint, somewhere in Neal Armstrong's head there must have been the idea of staying behind on the moon. Forever a star-crossed fugitive. Bursting out of the worlds mise-en-scene... waiting for the air to run out. That's what we are all doing down here anyway. Why not have the better view?

Longing to be between the lines of the highway again. Long live the single file life.  Sometimes love grows legs only so it can run away. For the rest of the year let's hold hands... not grudges.