I sit, well I lay really, listening to bands I love cover songs that I love from other bands that I love. I feel at once warm by the compilation and yet betrayed by the break in pacts and packs of creativity. I am haunted by these covers, falling into my past, unsure if I want to be tucked in.
Smelling these crisp clean Spring sheets reminds me of Sunday mornings - sleeping late, twenty pounds ago, eating cheese grits, bacon and scrambled eggs. These voices seeping out into the night remind me of your stupid self. You're not unlike a cover song, charming yet dis-alarming.
I guess being in the covers of the past while in your favorite present isn't all that bad. I do love Guns n' Roses version of "Knockin' on Heavens Door" and "Sympathy for the Devil" - seriously. I might as well love my past and tuck it under the covers to go to sleep with my warm toes.