Post by smeegal on Oct 3, 2010 11:16:51 GMT -8
HARPER GWENDOLYN MATTHEWS
I don't get my kicks so quick no more
Million dollar fix to nix one girl
The young blond walked into the coffee shop, eyes scanning the area. Usually she'd be at the barn, but she thought about possibly making some extra cash. She needed some time to play some music too, for she had a break into insomnia the night before, afraid of suffering from nightmares.
Post traumatic stress was very hard on poor Harper. She was here to start a new life, we're no one knew her, or knew about her wrong doings. Who remembered news from three years ago anyways? She pulled up a chair at one of the window seats, setting down her guitar. Lucky for her, no one else was playing today.
She opened the case, pulling out her beautiful acoustic guitar, keeping the case open, she put a sign in it. 'Money for Barn fund?'. She did need help, sure she was a horse trainer, but business was rather slow and she had three horses to feed.
She pushed her long blond hair over her shoulder, fitting her pick into her fingers, starting to strum, tuning the guitar to her liking. She cleared her throat, looking up slightly. A few people seemed to look over in her direction, interested in what the tall blonde could play.
She started to play the tune to a Beatles song, everyone should know the Beatles, right? Her voice slowly creeped from her voice box as she played her melody.
"I look at all the lonely people.
I look at all the lonely people.
Ella Marigby
Picks up the rice in the church where her wedding has been;
Lives in a dream.
Waits at the window,
Wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door.
Who is it for?
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Father MacKenzie
Writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear;
No one comes near.
Look at him working,
Nodding his socks in the night when there's nobody there.
What does he care?
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
I look at all the lonely people.
I look at all the lonely people.
Ella Marigby
Died in the church and was buried alone with her name.
Nobody came.
Father MacKenzie
Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from her grave.
No one was saved.
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?"
She looked down at her guitar case as she finished the song, a few dollars lay within the case, but she wasn't going to be rude and start counting right than and there. She also noticed a few pieces of folded paper, this of course, brought curiousty, but she would just have to wait.
"Any requests on what I should play next?" She asked, a perfect smile appearing on her face.
Post traumatic stress was very hard on poor Harper. She was here to start a new life, we're no one knew her, or knew about her wrong doings. Who remembered news from three years ago anyways? She pulled up a chair at one of the window seats, setting down her guitar. Lucky for her, no one else was playing today.
She opened the case, pulling out her beautiful acoustic guitar, keeping the case open, she put a sign in it. 'Money for Barn fund?'. She did need help, sure she was a horse trainer, but business was rather slow and she had three horses to feed.
She pushed her long blond hair over her shoulder, fitting her pick into her fingers, starting to strum, tuning the guitar to her liking. She cleared her throat, looking up slightly. A few people seemed to look over in her direction, interested in what the tall blonde could play.
She started to play the tune to a Beatles song, everyone should know the Beatles, right? Her voice slowly creeped from her voice box as she played her melody.
"I look at all the lonely people.
I look at all the lonely people.
Ella Marigby
Picks up the rice in the church where her wedding has been;
Lives in a dream.
Waits at the window,
Wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door.
Who is it for?
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Father MacKenzie
Writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear;
No one comes near.
Look at him working,
Nodding his socks in the night when there's nobody there.
What does he care?
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
I look at all the lonely people.
I look at all the lonely people.
Ella Marigby
Died in the church and was buried alone with her name.
Nobody came.
Father MacKenzie
Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from her grave.
No one was saved.
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?"
She looked down at her guitar case as she finished the song, a few dollars lay within the case, but she wasn't going to be rude and start counting right than and there. She also noticed a few pieces of folded paper, this of course, brought curiousty, but she would just have to wait.
"Any requests on what I should play next?" She asked, a perfect smile appearing on her face.