harryferaray.bsky.social
@harryferaray.bsky.social
Songs and song words have the beauty of birds. The last of the sun stepping off the edge of our world. “I have to go” she says without noise and with darkness. The gleam fades - do you remember the last time we saw each other?

It is good to learn this, to know this moment again.

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November 29, 2025 at 6:11 PM
The stuff of Turner, Shelley, mariners and creatures of all the oceans. You can call it Twilight, vicar. May easing into June. The Campsie Fells. Sundown. Empty house. Blinds drawn. A cassette spools

“Where is my craft leading to//
Am I damned or blessed?”
November 29, 2025 at 6:11 PM
Looking all the way back from _2021 to then: _1990, our young hero looks up to the heavens noting a freshness to the sky.
November 29, 2025 at 6:11 PM
That thrift store knit cap. Guitar lick percussion tight. He remembers the burning wood fire. The roaring fierce heat and then somewhere down the line the ashes collapse through the grate.

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#underthebridge #memory #mtveurope #redhotchillipeppers
November 25, 2025 at 5:11 PM