Right outside the front door I like to sit on the second chair from the first, strumming the most obvious strums, whispering the most obvious words, making it quite evident, that the second strum from the first and the second word from the first is somewhat closer to my heart.

On and on my mind goes… and as the spring sighs upon our blues, guess who, slender and dignified (and perhaps a little cross), himself shows?

Half an hour passes by… so does another… and another… and mister not-so-droopy-eyelids-anymore goes about doing his very favorite chore… and when it had been of a-half-of-an-hour a four… I couldn’t take it anymore… So I let him be, holding onto his darling stick, and not moving, like he had not been moving before… I go back to the second chair from the first, right outside the front door…

… as my finger takes the fateful half step on the guitar… with the minor A, I nod for a start, at the blue dragon still in my heart…