Title: Sunday Fiction
Piano edit

There are nights where words are not needed. When I don't have to explain anything about me, and your lips are beautiful sealed. Those nights call for random strolls and spontaneous visits. Just drop by the nearest bar and everything will be heavenly; the drinks will be just right, the music quite there. 

At the end of the magical night you'll even think - is this real? It's simply too good. But it is. A night as good as your fiction.

some nights are surreal (piano)

bcc_underwater