my scrambled and dysfunctional paragraphical thoughts once again:
so we sit outside drinking high life outside the pigs place, waiting on the band to play. almost 21 what can I say, but
I got a few more days to go.
and you know its like a waist land when you can't see the sunshine under all those alcoholic shadows, what a way to live.
Feeling like a lost dog on a pole in a winter snow
w a i t i n g ______________outside the bar,
I've seen Wayne Coyne with fur and heels on arm,
and I'm //almost uneven in a toxic drink // but my cig a r e t t e burns ash
out on the oklahoma street.
we can make it home on of Montreal beat.
oh so mischevious as a fox in dark leaves of green and Desire.
asleep on a coach under sheets of mystery and kitten fur.
with crusty toothpaste and ****** gums cleaning off what was
to , always
judged as a minor star in a music bar
we are all here, and now, and wild.
Come,
as an untamed dessert lover with a tipped cup of emotion in caffeen steam.
oh wonderful traveler with polar bear ice cream .
"look at all these people cages!"
boxes of broken penniless dreams.
"that's a cool tree house though, and that oh yeah another condemened house for you to live in" HA HAH ahh ha ha....
SO, sometimes I feel like a circus clown at the rail of room 39
like I've always thought with sound, and needing to finish work,
take my medicine as I should
get directions from trickster's with inhumane sorcery, could you tell
them I did well?
realizing its all a wave that crashes us like a tidled surf.
I want like dear old foes a place to be a fool and take it all slowly.
What was once said to be real
is long bled
as a heart
upon the sleeve turns blue.
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
my scrambled and dysfunctional paragraphical thoughts once again:
so we sit outside drinking high life outside the pigs place, waiting on the band to play. almost 21 what can I say, but
I got a few more days to go.
and you know its like a waist land when you can't see the sunshine under all those alcoholic shadows, what a way to live.
Feeling like a lost dog on a pole in a winter snow
w a i t i n g ______________outside the bar,
I've seen Wayne Coyne with fur and heels on arm,
and I'm //almost uneven in a toxic drink // but my cig a r e t t e burns ash
out on the oklahoma street.
we can make it home on of Montreal beat.
oh so mischevious as a fox in dark leaves of green and Desire.
asleep on a coach under sheets of mystery and kitten fur.
with crusty toothpaste and ****** gums cleaning off what was
to , always
judged as a minor star in a music bar
we are all here, and now, and wild.
Come,
as an untamed dessert lover with a tipped cup of emotion in caffeen steam.
oh wonderful traveler with polar bear ice cream .
"look at all these people cages!"
boxes of broken penniless dreams.
"that's a cool tree house though, and that oh yeah another condemened house for you to live in" HA HAH ahh ha ha....
SO, sometimes I feel like a circus clown at the rail of room 39
like I've always thought with sound, and needing to finish work,
take my medicine as I should
get directions from trickster's with inhumane sorcery, could you tell
them I did well?
realizing its all a wave that crashes us like a tidled surf.
I want like dear old foes a place to be a fool and take it all slowly.
What was once said to be real
is long bled
as a heart
upon the sleeve turns blue.
I realize this is hard to follow, each stanza represents a unique moment of feeling i've encountered and the words that come to my head in these mostly spread out and are unrelated thoughts.
It is pure expressionism.
