Talking to no one particular for no discernible reason other than to hear one’s self is masturbation
A Composition of My Own
I hate the lyrics to this song But the melody stirs emotions recalls memories and makes a song of my own
Feels Like Monday
God Jesus Yahweh Buddha Mother Nature Father Time and Old Mother Hubbard Hate me That’s the only way I can explain yesterday I would have stayed in bed this morning if not for the Sandman
13 Flights
Thirteen thousand Five Hundred Five consecutive days and counting I have been waking up Getting out of bed’s the hard part The rest is like falling down stairs
How Low Can I Go?
Limbo without music or a stick is hell
What’s Your Sign?
I’m trying to get my plans laid But life’s not putting out
Take Me Out
It was 1974 or 5. When my dad and I went to the first of what would be our only baseball game together. I was 4 or 5. My parents were separated in anticipation of their upcoming divorce. Not his idea. Though she was doing him a favor. Dad picked me up in his 1954 Buick, [...]
