I still have no particular writing goals for this round, so I'm really following wherever the flighty muse is leading me. Which is apparently some fairly strange and mostly unusable places. I think this started out as some sort of Aimee Mann ripoff before taking a turn towards Jeff Buckley doing Edith Piaf in some sort of Art Deco fever dream. Regardless, it's fun, it's cute, it'll probably never see the light of day again.
There are no real lyrics to this. It's just stream of consciousness riffing, but it began with the strange New Yorker article I just read about the up-and-coming tennis star, Nick Kyrgios, who is immensely talented and has the world at his feet but is, at best, ambivalent about the game of tennis. To have such natural talent and an utter lack of passion about the matter at hand is at such incredible odds with my own experience in my chosen field that I think I felt drawn to try to get inside his head a bit. This is NOT that song, but it could be, with effort.
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