the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea

Time passes. Listen. Time passes.
Come closer now.
Only you an hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night.

Time does indeed pass as Dylan mentioned and listen, you CAN hear it.

It's a Wednesday night, being single has brought some strange and wonderful experiences. As I sleep in the slow deep salt and silent black bandaged night, I awake suddenly with the sound of gunshots in the low down muthufuckin'mean druggang streets of Vila Cruzeiro. Pistol shot has a certain unmistakable CRACK! sound CRACK! Last night there was a rapid CRACK-CRACK-CRACK followed by - in a slightly different tone, whether caused by direction, distance or weapon - CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK. Which sounded to me very much like two guys shooting at each other over a distance with short barrelled handguns.A stray could shatter my spine, knock a chip out of my skull or make jelly of my kidneys. I edge over to the inner side of the bed.

The lady in question is wonderful.
Could this be love. Said Bob.
Don't believe a word, not a word of it is true, don't believe me if I tell you 'specially if I tell you that I'm in love with you. Said Phil.

It could be. Said Ala