the pasta is too gummy marsh swamp buckets sheep on the hill overcast rainy a little the grass is green im having withdrawal from her face, you know. throwing out my report card with my lunch wanna have a skinny stomach there's milk on my jacket sleeve, i remember it warm on my wrist. everything on my hand has faded it's just little poky hairs now, no more hearts. the girl in my head walked by me red gray blue she looked like berkeley (no, richmond i guess) like a drizzle sun today's weather she walked like the rainbow at the end of the hill someone lit the bathroom on fire. i know if he was still here, the moon would be out but without him the pasta is just too gummy my stomach too full the hills too wet