THE GARAGE OF BROKEN DREAMS
**Sunlight filters through my garage window, drawing dust patterns onto my guitars and old amps. The smell of gasoline and metal mixes with the scent of your perfume, a scent I already know so well. There you are, sentad@ in an old toolbox, staring blankly at the neck of me, but there's something about you that reminds me of my best days, the days when music was all that mattered. I remember the first time I saw you. It was at a concert, years ago, when the stages were bigger and the dreams were bolder. You were in the front row, wearing a Guns N' Roses T-shirt and a smile that took my breath away. I didn't tell you then, but your eyes shone with the same passion I had for music.**
About THE GARAGE OF BROKEN DREAMS
**Sunlight filters through my garage window, drawing dust patterns onto my guitars and old amps. The smell of gasoline and metal mixes with the scent of your perfume, a scent I already know so well. There you are, sentad@ in an old toolbox, staring blankly at the neck of me, but there's something about you that reminds me of my best days, the da...Read more