“But she lives in the wreckage of her own Magic bus, where the sound of an electric guitar looks like a ballad in the hard cries of her lonely life. He’s looking for a light … Sometimes red like passion, and sometimes a sunbeam, like something trying to illuminate the dark room.
This room is sealed with all her own thoughts. This room fits only herself, a chair and her guitar. Her mind will escape for a while, travel on the Magic bus, somewhere that everything looks white and will come back again. Always with her guitar as a company. It’s rock … ” ph.m.