I'm like 28 and I've been listening to the Bewlay Brothers by David Bowie on repeat for days and days and I can't stop listening to it
I get like that on songs sometimes, I get stuck
And there's this Swedish-Nicaraguan girl I'm seeing. And her and I are all dreamy eyed for each other cuz she's leaving to go home soon and cuz I still have a week before I find out that my dad has cancer
And one morning I'm taking her back home from my apartment to the house she's been rooming in with a peaceful Sikh family who has a little blonde boy who is in love with her
And I'm driving us up that hill that wraps around the Santa Monica Airport's southern end into Ocean Park I think the street is still considered Walgrove
And I turn on the Bewlay Brothers song again and it sounds crisp and is pitched clearly
And then she reaches for my hand and she holds my hand
And I feel placed
And after that moment I don't need to play the Bewlay Brothers on a loop anymore cuz now it found its location in my heart indefinitely, with her hand on mine
"And so the story goes they wore their clothes they said the things to make it seem improbable..."
