Waterman safety, Waterman vintage music nib, lyrics.

“I wish that I believed in fate, I wish I didn’t sleep so late. I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders.”

Waterman safety, jade dragon, letter paper
Waterman safety, jade dragon, letter paper

“Hey blue, there is a song for you, ink on a pin. Underneath the skin, an empty space to fill in.”

Waterman imprint
Waterman imprint

“You put a big bird in a small cage, it’ll sing you a song, that we all love to sing along, to the sound of the bird that mourns.”

A vintage Waterman music nib
A vintage Waterman music nib - sloping shoulders, thick iridium tipping, three tines

“When out of a doorway, the tentacles stretch of a song that I know, and the world moves in slo-mo, straight to my head like the first cigarette of the day.”

The nib, half-retracted, peeks out of the barrel
The nib, half-retracted, peeks out of the barrel

“You have lived and your intelligence is sexy. I wanna know what you’ve got to say. I can tell you taste like the sky ’cause you look like rain.”

The nib still in the barrel
The nib still in the barrel - iridium tipping in focus

“Don’t seem right. I’ve been strung out here all night. I’ve been waiting for the taste you said you’d give to me.”

Plastic eyedropper, Private Reserve Oxblood ink, barrel
Plastic eyedropper, Diamine Oxblood ink, barrel

“And now, my strongest force of habit, my favourite game, my wrecking ball is you. So why stay clear?”

Yes, the music nib flexes
Yes, the music nib flexes

“Well it’s been a long time, long time now, since I’ve seen you smile. And I’ll gamble away my fright, and I’ll gamble away my time.”

The nib keeps up with flexing, thanks to the generous flow
The nib keeps up with flexing, thanks to the generous flow

“And on the worst days, when it feels like life weighs ten thousand tonnes, I sleep with my passport. One eye on the back door, so I can always run. I can get up, shower in half an hour, I’d be gone.”

Line variation galore
Line variation galore

“Like baby’s breath, I’m holding on to air. My lung’s a thief. Should I know you? A stranger though you seem, you feel like home.”