Waltz

And feet don't touch the ground

Listening to Silje Nergaard reminds me of evenings in my tiny little Skejbygaardskollegiet flat. I would be at my little kitchenette chopping up stuff for dinner, listening to her dreamy voice emanating from my laptop speakers and occasionally glancing up to watch the sunset through my big square window. I wish I could waltz my way back to that moment, where everything was perfect. I know its like wishing that the last dance would never end, or wishing that the train never reaches its destination. Constantly moving, constantly in transit; everything is a blur, a beautiful blur.
So, strike up the band let it play...