Memory Lane Is... The road in the cardinal's beak, and a rumbling song in the school hallways, and the hut by the sea that will forever be mine because of the day I spent there with my mother in march. Memory lane, It's the whims and the flute-cries of mountains that were once so, so cold. and formed from it. It's the change of my writing scripts, But I can still read it all, Yes I can still read it all, clanging and all. Memory lane is the rhythmic nautilus shell that breaks from a busted voice box, broken open by the greedy hands of a magic-eyed child. It's my birthday, yes, that much is true, that the sailing will happen under the slide of the hummingbird to truth.
