DISCLAIMER : I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS ....BUT I AM GRACE AND I AM DIMITRI. THAT'S WHY THEY INSPIRE ME, THEY ARE NOT JUST CHARACTERS THEY ARE SOMETHING MUCH MORE.
REVIEWS: Let me know... "How did you feel? About the experience." Hmmm you say...let's see I like fanfiction and new chapters so whatever shall I do today. I know: I shall write a review and it will be ever so nice. I caution you to remember that nice is for shrimp salads, and grandmothers. I'm not interested in nice :D but I'll take in a pinch :)
CHAPTER NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to Grace. She was incredible even before Mr. Dimitri came and maybe that's why we love him so much..he was he first person to make her realize that. He crept into our hearts (some more slowly then others) with his restlessness that was weirdly charismatic. And that touched our hearts. So this chapter is for the girl with the loneliest eyes...and the man with the saddest smile I've ever seen. Music ...well I've finally come round to Ella and I have something really special for the next chapter I say as I walk away whistling "Five Hundred Miles" and turning out the lights...
EMAIL; jeanl2@sympatico.ca
"You don't even have friends. You have followers." DR. KATE AUSTIN
OH, YES, SHE'S MENTIONED YOU
Grace was standing on the black stage, green tape marking the place to stand for the correct lighting. You don't want to ever disturb convention and be somewhere in the shadows. The people who cared about you in the audience well they expected allumination and highlights on you. Didn't they deserve that? To inflict bitter disappontment was cruel. But occasionally you've got to be cruel to be kind. I mean it's a very good sign. Pacing pacing bidding time until.... until the curtain would fall and end the current play. The senseless drama that was better read backwards. Dyslexic grasp if you attempted any other way. It's impossible to understand the story as it happens, only in hindsight and in reverse do things become clear. "Last scene of all that ends this strange eventful history,...." , but that was another play. Maybe I'll find a way to make it back someday. She turned away a moment before gracing the stage with confidence and strength. Ever the experienced performer. She took in a deep breath and began,
"They call my beloved crazy eccentric. A mad man in a sane man's guise. The very saying of his name brings forth thought of it's meaning. Princely , why he is only an honourable ruler in an unhonourable ........
~***********************************~
"I'm thinking of this for Act 2. What do you think?"
He put the cd on and moved away towards his desk, as Grace sat down in the worn leather chair near the window. Sitting sideways with her feet dangling over the arm she rested her head on the smooth leather, and closed her eyes. Midway through the song she asked, "What is it?" Distracted Dimitri limited his answer to one word ,"Ella". "Oh" , she called back. But who was Ella?
"I don't know what day it is
Or if it's dark or fair
Somehow, that's just the way it is
And I don't really care
I go to this or that place
I seem alive and well
My head is just a hat place
My breast an empty shell
And I've a faded dream to sell
All alone, all at sea
Why does nobody care for me?
When there's no love to hold my love
Why is my heart so frail?
Like a ship without a sail.
Out on the ocean,
Sailors can use a chart
I'm on the ocean
Guided by just a lonely heart
Still alone, still at sea
Still there's no one to care for me
When there's no hand to hold my hand
Life is a loveless tale
For a ship without a sail
(Bridge)
Still alone, still at sea
Still there's no one to care for me
When there's no hand to hold my hand
Life is a loveless tale
For a ship without a sail"
Grace was watching August typing away at his computer. The rhythm of fingers striking keys a soothing sound. The gentle clicking etching away. The way his hands moved and his forearms visible past the rolled up cuffs of his ocean blue shirt. He swiveled his chair round to face her when she began to speak.
"Tell me something why do you always choose songs like that?"
"Like what?" [amused]
"The water, the ships ,the birds and the hopelessness. Is it what you feel that life is or--"
"No." He paused slowly one foot at a time propelling his chair towards her across the vast distance between his work area to the more disorganized and yes, rumpled regions of the living room. "It's not like that at all. Plays are heightened realities and the very extremeness of their nature supports these type of songs. They are extremely sad."
"So they're meant to mean something. As messages--"
"I think so," Dimitri said running his hand through his hair. "I think these songs recognize the inate unhappiness that is possible and remind us that regardless there is something more important. The message of the play is really that for every hopeless person there is another corresponding person who is there to say it's not hopeless. You are not without hope ,--and beauty. It reminds the blessed that they have a job and that is to share that beauty with the world...even if it only saves one of the lonely."
"You think it's a choice, I mean happiness or unhappiness."
"I think it's like--well people are like Muppets. You know, Jim Henson- Muppets?" [ his hand made a vague movement through the air ]
Grace looked at him and rolled her eyes, "I know Muppets"
"Well each puppet is unique and different. But they're all the same too. But then they're nothing alike really." He started to move his chair back towards the desk. "And you have wonder how much effect the puppeteer has on the way we understand their actions. Or if the puppeteer matters at all- maybe all they do is hold the strings?"
"August." He stopped and looked at her, really looked at her, "Yes Grace"
"Why the mysticism of the water?"
"When I was young we lived by the sea. My family. My mother she used to love the water and I remember she would take us kids to the beach. She always wore a wide brimmed hat and these massive glasses. The glasses were atrocious but it was something I've never forgotten. I would sit in the sand building castles and she would wade in the water. I was always angry that the waves would wash away my castles before they could even be begun. I couldn't ever catch the vision I wanted for them. My mother she loved the water saying it was the everlasting beauty. Me I liked the sand : the heat, the warmth, the very color of it and the water always took the sand away. Once I started digging a hole , determined it would be the biggest hole, I never expected it to go to China or anything like that. I just loved to dig it and watch it grow deeper. You know we should go to the beach sometime. "
"Do you miss your mother?"
"Yes.", he paused then added with a smile, "Plus I have endless visions of you in a bikini"
Grace shuddered, and he laughed , "An itsy bitsy one. With yellow dots of course--", what he was saying trailed off....
"When I was small I used to paint our house with paint brushes and a bucket of water. I remember once I had a sitter and she refused to let me paint the house that way. I don't know why , I don't if I did even then know the reasoning. I screamed and yelled and I hated that sitter. Seriously! All I wanted to do was paint the house with water and I don't know why. But there was beauty, purpose and importance for that child of 6 or 7 to do that. You think that's symbolistic?"
"I don't know Grace . I never claimed to have the answers, only the questions."
"You know when I first met you that's what I hated about you. That you acted like you knew everything. I told Eli that once and well-- I won't say what he said."
"Funny thing. That infuriated me about you- you seemed to have the answers. But you weren't letting anyone know them and it was a waste."
"Maybe we were both right. Maybe we each have the answers to the other's questions?"
"A lovely thought."
"It's was actually only a question."
August slide his chair full tilt back to his desk and resumed his work. Typing and occasionally thumbing through the Webster's.
"Can we have a happy song?"
He looked back to Grace. "I would like nothing more." He rose and walked over to the stereo changing the track. She smiled as the music begin but it was not a completely happy smile. It was reluctant and pained, imbedded with things time had not yet healed. Bended not yet mended. Ella asked "Aren't you glad we did it?" , the question was answered without words. ...
"Oh, it really wasn't my intention
To disregard convention
It was just an impulse
That had to be obeyed.
Though it seems convention we've been scorning
I'll still not go in mourning
Though my reputation
Is blemished, I'm afraid.
With just one kiss
What heaven, what rapture, what bliss
Honestly, I thought you wouldn't.
Naturally, you thought you couldn't.
And probably we shouldn't.
But aren't you kind of glad we did?
Actually, it all was blameless.
Nevertheless, they'll call it shameless
So let's keep the lady nameless
But aren't you kind of glad we did?
Socially, I'll be an outcast
Obviously, we dined alone
On my good name there will be doubt cast
With never a sign of any chaperone.
No matter how they may construe it
Whether or not, we have to rue it
Whatever made us do it
Say, aren't you kind of glad we did?
(instrumental bridge)
Whatever made us do it
Say, aren't you kind of glad we did it .."
~*********************************************************~
"So are we inviting him over for Christmas or what --", Rick asked changing channels with the remote.
"What you think?"
"I think Lil it would be a heck of an interesting proposition." Rick said turning over the remote and sliding the minute trap door aside to check for batteries and life.
"Hmmmf. Not under my roof I won't have any interesting happenings going on. Besides does he have a religion? I mean for all we know he's atheist or one of those people who are anti-holidays."
"Actually I think he mentioned something about having his own religion."
"Like a cult or something?"
"I think more the 'or something'. He told me about invocations the other day but then he just walked away and never explained what he meant by it all."
"That's weird."
"Upanistads I think he said. Anyway I just thought it might be nice."
"Did you say nice?"
"So what about Jessie?", Rick asked.
"You mean about her inviting her friend Katie. Why not? Katie seems very nice and I like the girl........"
~*********************************************************~
She surprised him his last night as much as any man could be pleasantly surprised in his own home. He came home to find his power turned off. He was surprised. The block had been lit hadn't it? He stumbled to the kitchen counter and laid his satchel atop it then he stopped noticing a candle in the other room. And there he was moved by Grace in a completely unanticipated direction. She had candles perched on his tables, stereo box, even the bookshelves threatening to send everything he owned up in smoke.
"This is a fire hazard you know", he said literally falling into a nearby chair in mild stupour.
"If you can't take the heat ---" , she teased.
"I never said that," he came towards her standing very close . Much much too close.. Just standing that way.
"Wait !" Grace skipped across the room for a moment then returning to find him back in the chair. "Tonight we do things according to my plan."
She put a finger over his lips and gently traced the outline of them. Then raised her other hand to trace his features with both hands. Her fingers lingering longest over his eyebrows and their pale orangeness. She had never seen, let alone touched orange eyebrows. With one hand in his hair she let the other slide down his neck and play with his gold chain. Grace bent in and kissed him. It was a very long familiar kiss and his arms went around her waist drawing her down and into the chair She broke away.
"Ahhhhhhhh" the sound escaped from him.
Shakira's "Undeneath Your Clothes" began to play and Grace's slowly started to undress August. Running her hands through this shoulder length softness. Guitar strumming, winter nights, snow.
"You're a song
Written by the hands of God
Don't get me wrong 'cuz
This might sound to you a bit odd
But you own the place
Where all my thoughts go hiding
And right under your clothes
Is where I find them
Because of you
I forgot the smart ways to lie
Because of you
I'm running out of reasons to cry
When the friends are gone
When the party's over
We will still belong to each other..."
Simultaneously straddling him and unzipping him she smiled, and heaven help the man he smiled back. She stopped a moment and with both hands took the cross that was around his neck gently. She looked at it softly and with reverance touching it then suddenly dropping it forgotten in the moment.
~*****************************************************~
"So you'll be back for Christmas , right?" Grace hesitated over the question.
"I'll call you. I'm dropping off these term results and exam grades, and a couple of other things then-- I'll call."
"I think I have a song for you."
He took the cd she handed him, "You've got to be joking. Rod Stewart, the original 'do you think I'm sexy' shaggy haired rocker."
"Yeah. [she tilts her head to the side slightly] Just listen to it. It's perfect for you."
He took the disc and gave her a twisted smile as he put it in his briefcase snapping the closures.
"I'll listen to it as soon as I can. Ok--"
"Okay."
"So-- Well ok--", he pressed her hand and then left her, walking off towards the boarding area and past the red rope that would seperate him from the person who he needed.
~*********************************************************~
Piano introduction, questionable flutters of a flute. Stewart's rasp voice...
"I am sailing
I am sailing
Home again cross the sea
I am sailing
Stormy waters to be near you
To be free
I am flying
I am flying
Like a bird cross the sky
I am flying
Passing high clouds
To be where you
To be free
Can you hear me
Can you hear me
Through the dark night far away
I am dying
Forever crying
To be with you who can say...."
In his bachelor apartment that was all one room, but he used the term "open concept" living to this colleagues, he replayed the cd. The second track was simply put ideal. It had all the elements that would succeed on stage. There was even potential to whistle it...she was incredible. He put the disc away in it's case relunctantly. In the kitchen he was making a cup of english breakfast tea and turning the spoon blending in the cream with the bitter strength of the leaves. He began humming. A few words coming here and there. Otis Redding. Why didn't I think of that? Slight smile expanding into full out grin. Whistling to the tune "Sittin' on the dock of the bay". He walked over to his bed in the corner and layed down fully stretched out his tea mug balanced on his stomach.
~~Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the delta blues in the middle of the pouring rain
W.C help me
Won't you look down over me
Yeah I got a first class ticket but I'm as blue as a boy can be
But I'm walking in Memphis
Was walking with my feet 10 feet off the beal
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel..."
REVIEWS: Let me know... "How did you feel? About the experience." Hmmm you say...let's see I like fanfiction and new chapters so whatever shall I do today. I know: I shall write a review and it will be ever so nice. I caution you to remember that nice is for shrimp salads, and grandmothers. I'm not interested in nice :D but I'll take in a pinch :)
CHAPTER NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to Grace. She was incredible even before Mr. Dimitri came and maybe that's why we love him so much..he was he first person to make her realize that. He crept into our hearts (some more slowly then others) with his restlessness that was weirdly charismatic. And that touched our hearts. So this chapter is for the girl with the loneliest eyes...and the man with the saddest smile I've ever seen. Music ...well I've finally come round to Ella and I have something really special for the next chapter I say as I walk away whistling "Five Hundred Miles" and turning out the lights...
EMAIL; jeanl2@sympatico.ca
"You don't even have friends. You have followers." DR. KATE AUSTIN
OH, YES, SHE'S MENTIONED YOU
Grace was standing on the black stage, green tape marking the place to stand for the correct lighting. You don't want to ever disturb convention and be somewhere in the shadows. The people who cared about you in the audience well they expected allumination and highlights on you. Didn't they deserve that? To inflict bitter disappontment was cruel. But occasionally you've got to be cruel to be kind. I mean it's a very good sign. Pacing pacing bidding time until.... until the curtain would fall and end the current play. The senseless drama that was better read backwards. Dyslexic grasp if you attempted any other way. It's impossible to understand the story as it happens, only in hindsight and in reverse do things become clear. "Last scene of all that ends this strange eventful history,...." , but that was another play. Maybe I'll find a way to make it back someday. She turned away a moment before gracing the stage with confidence and strength. Ever the experienced performer. She took in a deep breath and began,
"They call my beloved crazy eccentric. A mad man in a sane man's guise. The very saying of his name brings forth thought of it's meaning. Princely , why he is only an honourable ruler in an unhonourable ........
~***********************************~
"I'm thinking of this for Act 2. What do you think?"
He put the cd on and moved away towards his desk, as Grace sat down in the worn leather chair near the window. Sitting sideways with her feet dangling over the arm she rested her head on the smooth leather, and closed her eyes. Midway through the song she asked, "What is it?" Distracted Dimitri limited his answer to one word ,"Ella". "Oh" , she called back. But who was Ella?
"I don't know what day it is
Or if it's dark or fair
Somehow, that's just the way it is
And I don't really care
I go to this or that place
I seem alive and well
My head is just a hat place
My breast an empty shell
And I've a faded dream to sell
All alone, all at sea
Why does nobody care for me?
When there's no love to hold my love
Why is my heart so frail?
Like a ship without a sail.
Out on the ocean,
Sailors can use a chart
I'm on the ocean
Guided by just a lonely heart
Still alone, still at sea
Still there's no one to care for me
When there's no hand to hold my hand
Life is a loveless tale
For a ship without a sail
(Bridge)
Still alone, still at sea
Still there's no one to care for me
When there's no hand to hold my hand
Life is a loveless tale
For a ship without a sail"
Grace was watching August typing away at his computer. The rhythm of fingers striking keys a soothing sound. The gentle clicking etching away. The way his hands moved and his forearms visible past the rolled up cuffs of his ocean blue shirt. He swiveled his chair round to face her when she began to speak.
"Tell me something why do you always choose songs like that?"
"Like what?" [amused]
"The water, the ships ,the birds and the hopelessness. Is it what you feel that life is or--"
"No." He paused slowly one foot at a time propelling his chair towards her across the vast distance between his work area to the more disorganized and yes, rumpled regions of the living room. "It's not like that at all. Plays are heightened realities and the very extremeness of their nature supports these type of songs. They are extremely sad."
"So they're meant to mean something. As messages--"
"I think so," Dimitri said running his hand through his hair. "I think these songs recognize the inate unhappiness that is possible and remind us that regardless there is something more important. The message of the play is really that for every hopeless person there is another corresponding person who is there to say it's not hopeless. You are not without hope ,--and beauty. It reminds the blessed that they have a job and that is to share that beauty with the world...even if it only saves one of the lonely."
"You think it's a choice, I mean happiness or unhappiness."
"I think it's like--well people are like Muppets. You know, Jim Henson- Muppets?" [ his hand made a vague movement through the air ]
Grace looked at him and rolled her eyes, "I know Muppets"
"Well each puppet is unique and different. But they're all the same too. But then they're nothing alike really." He started to move his chair back towards the desk. "And you have wonder how much effect the puppeteer has on the way we understand their actions. Or if the puppeteer matters at all- maybe all they do is hold the strings?"
"August." He stopped and looked at her, really looked at her, "Yes Grace"
"Why the mysticism of the water?"
"When I was young we lived by the sea. My family. My mother she used to love the water and I remember she would take us kids to the beach. She always wore a wide brimmed hat and these massive glasses. The glasses were atrocious but it was something I've never forgotten. I would sit in the sand building castles and she would wade in the water. I was always angry that the waves would wash away my castles before they could even be begun. I couldn't ever catch the vision I wanted for them. My mother she loved the water saying it was the everlasting beauty. Me I liked the sand : the heat, the warmth, the very color of it and the water always took the sand away. Once I started digging a hole , determined it would be the biggest hole, I never expected it to go to China or anything like that. I just loved to dig it and watch it grow deeper. You know we should go to the beach sometime. "
"Do you miss your mother?"
"Yes.", he paused then added with a smile, "Plus I have endless visions of you in a bikini"
Grace shuddered, and he laughed , "An itsy bitsy one. With yellow dots of course--", what he was saying trailed off....
"When I was small I used to paint our house with paint brushes and a bucket of water. I remember once I had a sitter and she refused to let me paint the house that way. I don't know why , I don't if I did even then know the reasoning. I screamed and yelled and I hated that sitter. Seriously! All I wanted to do was paint the house with water and I don't know why. But there was beauty, purpose and importance for that child of 6 or 7 to do that. You think that's symbolistic?"
"I don't know Grace . I never claimed to have the answers, only the questions."
"You know when I first met you that's what I hated about you. That you acted like you knew everything. I told Eli that once and well-- I won't say what he said."
"Funny thing. That infuriated me about you- you seemed to have the answers. But you weren't letting anyone know them and it was a waste."
"Maybe we were both right. Maybe we each have the answers to the other's questions?"
"A lovely thought."
"It's was actually only a question."
August slide his chair full tilt back to his desk and resumed his work. Typing and occasionally thumbing through the Webster's.
"Can we have a happy song?"
He looked back to Grace. "I would like nothing more." He rose and walked over to the stereo changing the track. She smiled as the music begin but it was not a completely happy smile. It was reluctant and pained, imbedded with things time had not yet healed. Bended not yet mended. Ella asked "Aren't you glad we did it?" , the question was answered without words. ...
"Oh, it really wasn't my intention
To disregard convention
It was just an impulse
That had to be obeyed.
Though it seems convention we've been scorning
I'll still not go in mourning
Though my reputation
Is blemished, I'm afraid.
With just one kiss
What heaven, what rapture, what bliss
Honestly, I thought you wouldn't.
Naturally, you thought you couldn't.
And probably we shouldn't.
But aren't you kind of glad we did?
Actually, it all was blameless.
Nevertheless, they'll call it shameless
So let's keep the lady nameless
But aren't you kind of glad we did?
Socially, I'll be an outcast
Obviously, we dined alone
On my good name there will be doubt cast
With never a sign of any chaperone.
No matter how they may construe it
Whether or not, we have to rue it
Whatever made us do it
Say, aren't you kind of glad we did?
(instrumental bridge)
Whatever made us do it
Say, aren't you kind of glad we did it .."
~*********************************************************~
"So are we inviting him over for Christmas or what --", Rick asked changing channels with the remote.
"What you think?"
"I think Lil it would be a heck of an interesting proposition." Rick said turning over the remote and sliding the minute trap door aside to check for batteries and life.
"Hmmmf. Not under my roof I won't have any interesting happenings going on. Besides does he have a religion? I mean for all we know he's atheist or one of those people who are anti-holidays."
"Actually I think he mentioned something about having his own religion."
"Like a cult or something?"
"I think more the 'or something'. He told me about invocations the other day but then he just walked away and never explained what he meant by it all."
"That's weird."
"Upanistads I think he said. Anyway I just thought it might be nice."
"Did you say nice?"
"So what about Jessie?", Rick asked.
"You mean about her inviting her friend Katie. Why not? Katie seems very nice and I like the girl........"
~*********************************************************~
She surprised him his last night as much as any man could be pleasantly surprised in his own home. He came home to find his power turned off. He was surprised. The block had been lit hadn't it? He stumbled to the kitchen counter and laid his satchel atop it then he stopped noticing a candle in the other room. And there he was moved by Grace in a completely unanticipated direction. She had candles perched on his tables, stereo box, even the bookshelves threatening to send everything he owned up in smoke.
"This is a fire hazard you know", he said literally falling into a nearby chair in mild stupour.
"If you can't take the heat ---" , she teased.
"I never said that," he came towards her standing very close . Much much too close.. Just standing that way.
"Wait !" Grace skipped across the room for a moment then returning to find him back in the chair. "Tonight we do things according to my plan."
She put a finger over his lips and gently traced the outline of them. Then raised her other hand to trace his features with both hands. Her fingers lingering longest over his eyebrows and their pale orangeness. She had never seen, let alone touched orange eyebrows. With one hand in his hair she let the other slide down his neck and play with his gold chain. Grace bent in and kissed him. It was a very long familiar kiss and his arms went around her waist drawing her down and into the chair She broke away.
"Ahhhhhhhh" the sound escaped from him.
Shakira's "Undeneath Your Clothes" began to play and Grace's slowly started to undress August. Running her hands through this shoulder length softness. Guitar strumming, winter nights, snow.
"You're a song
Written by the hands of God
Don't get me wrong 'cuz
This might sound to you a bit odd
But you own the place
Where all my thoughts go hiding
And right under your clothes
Is where I find them
Because of you
I forgot the smart ways to lie
Because of you
I'm running out of reasons to cry
When the friends are gone
When the party's over
We will still belong to each other..."
Simultaneously straddling him and unzipping him she smiled, and heaven help the man he smiled back. She stopped a moment and with both hands took the cross that was around his neck gently. She looked at it softly and with reverance touching it then suddenly dropping it forgotten in the moment.
~*****************************************************~
"So you'll be back for Christmas , right?" Grace hesitated over the question.
"I'll call you. I'm dropping off these term results and exam grades, and a couple of other things then-- I'll call."
"I think I have a song for you."
He took the cd she handed him, "You've got to be joking. Rod Stewart, the original 'do you think I'm sexy' shaggy haired rocker."
"Yeah. [she tilts her head to the side slightly] Just listen to it. It's perfect for you."
He took the disc and gave her a twisted smile as he put it in his briefcase snapping the closures.
"I'll listen to it as soon as I can. Ok--"
"Okay."
"So-- Well ok--", he pressed her hand and then left her, walking off towards the boarding area and past the red rope that would seperate him from the person who he needed.
~*********************************************************~
Piano introduction, questionable flutters of a flute. Stewart's rasp voice...
"I am sailing
I am sailing
Home again cross the sea
I am sailing
Stormy waters to be near you
To be free
I am flying
I am flying
Like a bird cross the sky
I am flying
Passing high clouds
To be where you
To be free
Can you hear me
Can you hear me
Through the dark night far away
I am dying
Forever crying
To be with you who can say...."
In his bachelor apartment that was all one room, but he used the term "open concept" living to this colleagues, he replayed the cd. The second track was simply put ideal. It had all the elements that would succeed on stage. There was even potential to whistle it...she was incredible. He put the disc away in it's case relunctantly. In the kitchen he was making a cup of english breakfast tea and turning the spoon blending in the cream with the bitter strength of the leaves. He began humming. A few words coming here and there. Otis Redding. Why didn't I think of that? Slight smile expanding into full out grin. Whistling to the tune "Sittin' on the dock of the bay". He walked over to his bed in the corner and layed down fully stretched out his tea mug balanced on his stomach.
~~Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the delta blues in the middle of the pouring rain
W.C help me
Won't you look down over me
Yeah I got a first class ticket but I'm as blue as a boy can be
But I'm walking in Memphis
Was walking with my feet 10 feet off the beal
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel..."