dirty projectors – gun has no trigger

I see this movie in black and white with absence of right or wrong, a waltz through the aching brick alleys and the light searching for a dark corner to hold in her arms and embrace, shiny silver puddles gleam and sparkle like a Crest white tooth, strangers pass each other in long charcoal coats with sharp angled silvered lines while the inner city choir belts the chorus ooohs, a walking drumbeat matching the mirror black wingtips striding through the plot, strikes a match and fade in the flame of the eyes of the city sinner who finds a gun with no trigger.



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