Mellowful Yellow...

I stood there on the stage unable to get into my groove. The thought of her was the only thing that passed through my mind. That girl created a maze unsolvable by any mere human. She had the elegance of a thousand of the most elegant females. She was my sun and my moon. I could not sleep without the scent of her. She had smelled like a field of flowers planted by god himself. My band begins to play and with every hit of the bass I feel her, she is close to me. My heart stops and in comes what I would love to be my love, my life.

This girl, she wore a yellow dress blessed with the curves and skin tone so radiant. I stood paralyzed as she walked forward toward the dance floor. Every cat in the joint was as deep in a trance unshakeable by any level of an earthquake in the moment. I could see their faces scan her from top to bottom ready to leave their spouses for a chance to dance with this girl. I begin to serenade the crowd, but I felt that I could not. My passion was being sipped like a glass of wine from my body by her gaze. what am I doing? I am sad inside and my sax sound’s as sad as a soul left wandering alone. But I am in love with this sadness.

She walks up to this man in a yellow suit and swoons him over toward the dance floor. They begin to dance and I watch despising every moment she holds him. She stares at me and it cuts through me as fast as the liquor I had drank that evening. I feel like I’ve been stabbed and betrayed. But I love her so. Every sway of her hips, every bat of her lashes, every curl in her hair. The hold on my heart this girl had was unmeasurable by any human scale. I feel as though I’ve lost what I never had. That girl in the yellow dress.

- David Gilmour, "The Girl in the Yellow Dress"