Dance, Dance, Dance

Pictures are being leaked as well.  What could this fellow have been thinking?  No wonder we were the only band in town without groupies.  There is nothing right about this thing at all. 

The turmoil of my life continues to rage, but yesterday my poor and tender heart had to harden in order to save itself against the disinterest of another.  Last night, knowing nothing is ever final, there was resolve.  But resolve only makes the next lunatic step more dangerous.  I am like a drunken man reeling on the dance floor.  A quiet night at home just isn't any more.  The balance is off quilter now and home seems a duller and lonelier place.  I've been here before, and it was exciting each day and night not knowing what to expect, but I don't know that I can take all that any more.  Physically or emotionally.  I know it is happening, for all the music sings to me. 

"Dance, dance, dance. . . ." 

It is exhausting, and this morning I slumbered far beyond my usual hour.  It was lovely. 

But every morning I am reminded that the night before I was drinking and emailing songs.  It is a bad and troubling sign.