If you look underneath peace, you might hear a faint sound of twinkling bells coming from an old music box in the middle of a road on a foggy afternoon.

The hiding place of rain shivers underneath the barn where animals of all kinds huddle together trying to protect each other from the haze and booming thunder.

The swirl of loneliness sounds like the chattering of people and booming music on the other side of the locked door with cigarette smoke seeping through the cracks while you’re looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

When you tiptoe through the Valley of Happiness, you might find fog with visions of things that could’ve been.