Still so beautiful as the angels
as the angels came down from on high
So sweet and so soft
So charmingly daft
So young was the matinee idol
Lips of crimson slightly open
As the flash and all fame put to rest
-'Matinee Idol', Rufus Wainwright
Every kind of love, or at least my kind of love
Must be an imaginary love to start with
Guess that can explain the rain, waiting
walking game
Schubert broke my brain to start with
-'Imaginary Love', Rufus Wainwright
I love that man. I must get his first album.
Also, rah! Further Whitby pictures! Yay.
E.
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