You rode by on your bike and when the music began, I looked up, thinking somebody had put on a CD in their car, with the window rolled. But it was you -- you were playing your accordion. It was a pretty tune and almost made me smile; I didn't, well, because I don't, not at strangers.
You had dark hair, a knit hat, and of course, your accordion. I was the girl who wanted to smile at you, and probably the only one who didn't that day.
Just one more thing ... what were you playing?
posted at 12:20:09 am
2. As "Americana" defines itself as artefacts of American culture, "Gloriana" consists of the artefacts of my culture.
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