Give me paradise

Those same violins keep ringing in my head. How old songs go unforgotten. How fond memories never fade. How each hour feels like a fleeting moment. I miss it. I miss those days. Not so long ago, I felt alive. I lived for the sake of movement, the passion in slamming my hands against floors. the blood, sweat, bad back, headaches. Those basements, small rooms, highway convenience stores. Yellow line Paradise keeps calling me home.