monday: putting ***** plates aside tuesday: ignoring the ***** plates wednesday: being bothered by the ***** plates thursday: intending to do the dishes friday: forgetting to do the dishes saturday late afternoon: meeting a woman in a pub who tells daddy that she has a dirt allergy saturday evening: arduously scrapping off fatty chunks from the dishes, groaning about such a hard kind of labor and thinking about easier ways of cleaning ***** plates.
from saturday night until sunday morning: making love to the woman from the pub; putting ***** plates...
Whittle down the memories And vale of love Someone who urge me To Stand tall With the blink of an eye All past existence cherishes My soul and happiness tie Although I may not be there For you that time But believe me I was you All the time Venturing the dim light Of your cries and fright I'm sorry I couldn't save you But believe me I was you
