red brick cradled, the sun died tired, and i felt the slower we went the better. but what were you saying about what you were saying cause all i could think about that night was the cemetary. statues don't make for easy conversation and what we failed to speak of was what we needed to get ourselves through it and have it make sense, but i'll find something in what you said... "are you punk rock, are you strung out or are you just crazy?"