"otis" poems
...
Is that as bad as you are to me?
I relented
not because I'm tired
but because I believe that you're the best friend ever
disappointed ...
after seeing what you did
once you know how the actual
once you're comfortable with your new friend
and then I forgotten?
how poor I am
I'm not mad at you
sure
but
in fact you make me disappointed
disappointed
very very disappointed
disappointed with what you've done to me
disappointed to state that you've given me
but one thing you should know
I'm still here
and will always be here for you
my friend
my enemy
my dearest
my sister
my teacher
my favourite
my buddy,
otis
boyo
suganda
yuni tamara
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
what doesn't **** you makes you stronger
you'll never know unless you try
face your demons and live longer
if you don't you'll surely die
Susie wilkins had some problems
tried to keep them all at bay
kept her secrets deep inside
but sometimes they would want to play
If you've toasted with the devil
he'll get your soul with just one glass
drink with him, he'll find your weakness
he'll get your soul, with just one glass
Susie thought she'd beat the needle
many years, the scars were healed
but, just one lonely drink with our dear devil
and all her demons were revealed
Susie, went back to her trailer
Another drink and then she'd try
One more needle couldn't hurt her
Her secrets out, and so she'll die
Otis Watson was a coward
Hit his wife for him to please
No one ever really wondered
Why she always wore long sleeves
He got his fill from all the torment
But, in the end he needed more
A simple punch would not appease him
To him, she was a cheating *****
If you've toasted with the devil
he'll get your soul with just one glass
drink with him, he'll find your weakness
he'll get your soul, with just one glass
A little man with many demons
A simple drink with you know who
His inner issues had now surfaced
The devil now would get his due
He came home drunk his wife was waiting
She knew the beating that what would come
He came in hard his fists were flailing
As he met her brand new gun
There'll always be another bottle
And there will be another name
Just sell your soul and tell your demons
Just drink with him, it's all a game
Life is not a game of simple
It doesn't take a lot to lose
But if you're drinking with the devil
To him your demons are old news
If you've toasted with the devil
he'll get your soul with just one glass
drink with him, he'll find your weakness
he'll get your soul, with just one glass
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
I am numb
Numb am i
Numb we are all
Numb nuns
Numb nuts
**** nuts
**** ****
****
****
****
**** my ****
**** my ****
Until it is numb
Crumbs
****
Drum
Hum
Numb
Stuck in gum
Or ***
Or drool, **** wine and glue
Like me stuck to you
**** you
**** me
I’ll watch
And use both hands
To tell the time
A crime
Committed
Omitted from books
Like cooks and crooks
****
Numb
I am numb
None
Nom nom nom
Numb
Succumb to my ***
On a street corner
Begging for change
It can’t stay the same
Someone might notice
Notice Otis?
They’re *******
**** *******
They must be numb
We’re all numb
Numb nuns
With guns
And **** puns
To **** tons
Ones and sons
Under one sun
A numb sun
Like god
God is numb
Dumb founded and *** pounded
Until it is numb
No feeling
No ceiling
Just sky
High
**** smack, ***** and ***
Up my nose
**** my nose
With a hose
Like one ***** hoes
No one knows
They’re all dumb
Numb…
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
a polar vortex
swirls eastward
on Siberian Tiger paws
bounding over
Appalachian Highlands
gobbling geography
gelling Great Lakes
spawning Erie blizzards
sculpting Wabash ice floes
clogging commerce all
along the Ohio River Valley
this voracious
juggernaut’s wide maw
bears icicle teeth
laughing as it swallows
Pittsburgh, Little Philly,
and a Big Apple, before
gorging itself on
generous portions
ladled into
simmering crocks
of steaming
Boston Baked Beans
growling
blue arctic
air blasts roar
bursts pipes
savages the heat
of blasting furnaces,
bubbling boilers, hot
belly stoves frantically
drinking oil, flaming gas
burning wood and
burping soot
the blistering
jet stream claws
screech a slashing
stratospheric hum
as Frigidaire blasts
swallows breath
brittles limbs
chafes cheeks
gnaws earlobes
crystallizes tears
nibbles nostrils
cubes snot
numbs toes
bites digits
diving sub zero
gradient subdues
batteries to
deaden states
delays buses
derails trains
cuts power
constricts veins
preys on
vagabonds
and animals
get the homeless
off the street!
bring the animals in
check on your
elderly neighbors
don’t get caught outside
and shut the **** door!
do you own stock
in the Public Service?
beware the polar vortex
and next months heating bill
Sonny Boy Williamson
& Otis Spann
Nine Below Zero
Oakland
1/6/14
jbm
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
With a hint of Otis I say:
"Sittin' on some steps by the...ocean,
"Watching the people of today,
Puttin' on that lotion...
Couples walk by
Never say hi.
Pondering the meaning of life,
Woah! My god, look at that girl!
I really like her...shirt.
Wow my sunburn really hurts.
Ah, the beach. What a soothing feeling
The ocean can reach...when one can
Hear it over screaming kids. Parents
Smoking as they push the cribs.
Foreigners ...Probably judging us Americans. Finding
Importance in life by being more tan.
Hey look there's a seagull. So free
To fall in the air. It's just not
fair. I wish I could steal fries from
Strangers and get away with it.
Just made awkward eye contact
With a runner. She was cute
But what a ****** I couldn't
Catch her if I tried. There's a
Rent-a-cop. He may yell, "Stop!"
But a nerf-gun can only do so
Much. What a job. Authority and
Such. This boardwalk is repetitive.
Needy kids and whiny parents.
I might need a sedative...there's
A choir of noise in the background. Arcade
Schemes...games...some bells, the ocean and
The screaming kids that are yet to be tamed.
Smh @ r generation.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 1:20 PM UTC
Soulful Mention
Beautiful white women I’m asking you to stand down this time your well noted in the cool cats book of
Love you electrify and defy all true description as all magic does and native American woman copperas
Skinned you bend and lend yourself to the exotic natural wonders your long black hair moves along the
Prairie grass up over the foot hills into the mountain wilds with a sight that is spellbinding you go so far
And when you can go no higher than the powerful eagle carries you aloft where sight is lost and you
Cause faith to enter because otherwise it’s unbelievable the effect you have on me no this is for the
Ones that their voice was first heard among the lions roar who else could have the power and courage
To endure such injustice and burdens dark like your ebony skin it would take men like Sam Cook and
Otis Redding with raw emotion and deep soul to travel out of Georgia through the dark store fronts and
Neon club lights of Harlem flow through the big Easy take your current at flood stage through
Birmingham Mobile the projects of St Louis on through the gateway to the west Kansas City where you
Pick up speed and the drawl is covered by the sprawl through it all your name is being called slow down
Baby turn and stop within those songs and voices your glory is resounding your life goes unbounded the
Honey drops it causes all males to stop you’re in the presence of true ladies they can be soft as cotton
Candy or have an edge that is smoky bluesy best referred to as a trumpet blast that can also smolder
Drift down city streets the horn is sounding oh how appealing the girl has got her groove on listen your
Being called by the most brilliant voices of our time Zelma heard and for a time lived an immortal dream
The transference of sorrow would extend extol these women into heartfelt heroes you truly can’t
Create such ignorance and grim circumstance without creating the rarest black Rose stone walls laden
Fields plantations was their birth place they are the one point that our race has been raised to
Exemplary Character
Apr 28, 2012
Apr 28, 2012 at 8:17 PM UTC
I contemplate
the inevitability of
Death
Over the course of a
Cigarette
As Otis Redding plays.
I should really stop smoking...
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 11:26 AM UTC
A tough
guy still
his place
relives Spanish
Inquisition and
gossamer upwind
only prorogue
yesterday with
those Oxfords
on shoes,
shirt and
Otis for
trusty returns
easily now
a ghost
ware of
his Aberdeen.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 4:56 PM UTC
half a dead pigeon
has indented itself in the gravel lot next door
and every day at dusk, when i run my sacred shower,
(with the lights off and windows open
and otis redding echoing through the empty house)
i have to watch the black static tide of flies
swim around one of it's upward bent wings.
the first time i saw it my jaw dropped and repulsion choked my throat closed-
disturbed by it's total disgrace,
i slammed the window shut
and preferred to gaze at tile grime to pass the time.
but from the days that followed,
i managed to muster up respect
and acknowledged that this
battered half of a bird
was now a variable in my scenery
(praise be to impermanence)
and now
the sunset drowns everything in it's hazy blood orange
and the wind floods the trees and fills the underside of the bridge with sound,
and i stand naked in the warmth,
singing boldly out of key, twisting hot water out of my hair,
as the summer breeze politely invades my privacy.
so i salute the pigeon, say i wish you the best.
and embrace the weight and fullness of my happiness,
and know well i am more than body and voice,
and watch it sink further into the arms of the earth each night.
grateful to know that death doesn't end life.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
Waking thoughts
Lyrics to a song
Shuffle through the playlist
Find the perfect one.
Too many can describe
My mental alibi
So I just take a little time
For the lyrics to fill my mind.
Growing up there was no blue sky rhyme
Metallica, pink Floyd and the cure
Were the ones to describe my youthful shrine.
Older plays
Took some blues away
How is it that I wasn't born
In the Woodstock age?
The doors, temptations, Jim Croce
Carol king
God! It's so godly when they sing.
Then I had to hit that puberty
Like a brick to the face
Picking out my own musical taste.
Adema, korn, Dresden dolls, tool.
Stone sour, shinedown, nine inch nails
Stone temple pilots and more as well.
Give me lyrics that could scream
All the screaming out of me.
Little did I know that in my scene
I thought my music was defining me.
I'm not music. Just flesh and bone
Maybe I should expand my treble tone.
Throw some chicks in there, you know?
No one should have a song on repeat
And have that be the song you hear when we meet.
So I searched for some musical relief
I enjoy a good scream sometimes
But that's not all I breathe.
Some motion city, say anything,
Yeah I like akon, lady sovereign,
A perfect circle and deftones
Classical Mozart and Beethoven makes me feel right at home.
Silver mt Zion, some Phillip glass,
Michael nyman, now I've achieved some class.
Pink when I feel like pop or brass
Punch guys in the **** cause I'm a chick
Hell yes!
No not really. The **** part, I mean.
But I actually really do like pink.
Jon Bon jovi or Otis redding
When I want to think of this guy that I'm loving.
I might have lost track of the lyrics I was originally thinking
But with my selection I'm derailing
With musical tasting.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Bryant, Williams, Ruffin, Kendricks, Mcgilberry, Davis and Harris.
All are apart of the legacy of Temptation's forever.
And now they are rockin' in heaven.
One with a spin.
One with a grin.
One with a smile surrounded by a heavenly choir.
The sun got brighter.
As the cloudy day faded away.
With the Saints of the Sanctuary marching to the gates.
One with spec.
One with a double breasted suit to the microphone.
With the choir of harmonizers singing along.
And they get inducted into the halls of Rock and Roll heaven.
The audience is supplied with starts.
We see Curtis Mayfield's will his guitar.
And Elvis ready to join in.
In Rock and Roll heaven, they all are musical friends.
Even Johnny Taylor and Sam Cooke and Otis Redding is ready to sing.
And Bobby Hatfield's ready to go upon a solo.
Oh, they must be rockin' behind close doors.
Ready to greet a Staple's singer through the holy doors.
God welcome only a select few.
While we upon earth debate about who?
In truth, only He knows, who He will bring?
And they all don't have to see.
If you've been touched by a song they sung.
Then you're aware of the bells that's been rung.
God, has placed his heart upon everyone.
Especially, his selected choir.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
I miss Buffalo Bill and Jersey Lil'
Jesse James among other names
Like Hopalong and Big John Wayne
Cooper,Cagney and,
What's that Indians name?
Oh yes
Cochise.
The man of war, the man of peace.
Jimmy Dean and Johnny Ray
Otis,Sammy and Doris day all yesterday
And yet
I bet there's no one quite like them
Not like Borgnine,Heston or Glen Ford.
Rememeber West and Ward
The caped crusaders
Or Roy Thinnes and the Martian Invaders?
I miss them all
The magic of the casting call and Lucille Ball.
Where did they go?
Moved on no doubt to another show and more greasepaint
Ain't life dull Without it full
Of these great stars.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC
Don't need some professional at a rehab center,
because these strains of infatuation go on and on.
No one can be paid to change the fact that
I wish I didn't miss you.
What'd I say?
I meant, I wish I didn't keep missing things.
Otis keeps telling me that a change is going to come.
But you can't be my lover and that won't change at all.
If you really want me... never mind.
I didn't write a song for you, but I listened to one.
And the entire time I pictured non-existent home videos from the past.
You wanted me ten minutes ago, but will you still want me tomorrow?
Probably not, because desires will be something different tomorrow.
And my body and my soul will be something different tomorrow.
You can't make me feel a desire that I can't see,
because I can't go for that.
Is this all desire really is?
Something I have to take happy pills to get through.
Well you lost me last night,
and all I was thinking was that soon we'll be found together in a different place.
I was 93 million miles away from you when you were just outside smoking a cigarette.
We're hanging from the Edge of Glory, trying to hoist ourselves up with string bean arms.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
The funniest thing about the Andy Griffith Show.
He had an aunt that he loved so.
Which took time for Opie to know.
He had a deputy with one bullet.
Give him more.
Then you were in for a show.
But, he also had a famous phase.
Like "Nip It In The Bud".
Which every now and then, he spoked.
In truth Bernard P. Fife was vital to the show.
Yes, the funniest thing about the Andy Griffith Show.
He was a good parent first and fore most.
He was fair and firm.
When it came to his son.
After all.
He only had one.
Unlike that , of My Three Sons.
The men seems to gather at the Barber Shop.
Which , we still see today.
And like Flyod, many talked before they cut.
And many times.
He would cut too low.
Yes, this was part of the fun of the Andy Griffith Show.
Who doesn't remember Otis?
Who could teach many drunks today's a lesson.
He personally checked himself in.
Just to sober up and leave again.
Who doesn't remember that adult kid Ernest T. Bass?
Who many of times was sneaky and smart?
Or wanted a uniform just to wear it with class.
Of course the black and white shows are better than color.
All because they are so much funnier.
We admire Thelma Lou.
Still trying to figure out exactly what she did do?
We remember even Ellie.
Who wouldn't give a senior citizen?
A sugar tablet.
Yes, this was part of the fun of the Andy Griffith Show.
I could go on.
But I stop for now.
Least until, I see the show when Bill Bixby learn a lesson.
From visiting the town.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 9:45 AM UTC
~ for Sara Bareilles ~
deuce driving nowhere for no reason,
wasting time, purposely, meticulously,
Otis singing the timelessness of no time,
wasting gas, polluting the future,
should I be caring,
of coursing not,
that’s the purpose
that needs no explaining
but ya know, surely knowing,
it’s not about the going,
but tapping on the breaks,
hoping they’ll close up the painful spaces,
bandaids of near silent footfalls,
pauses of pressure,
implausible discarding the empties
cause a love story,
is now more about the
chapter breaks, heart aches
thus looking out the window
thinking-gazing you’ll spot her
knowing you won’t but
still go on driving until
you no longer can and
tapping on the breaks
is helping
and that is all that you are really doing
minding the gaps that yet gape
open them pausing breaks
so time can suture them
4/17/18 8:43pm in a Master Class with Sara B.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Felix Calvalari and the Rascals singing Groovy.
As I ride along.
What a lovely uplifting mood song?
Of two people enjoying the mood.
And the Beach Boys singing Don't Worry Baby.
Stating everything is going to be alright.
How can you not love a lady like this?
Who gives off great confidence.
I truly believe, I could never love another.
After loving her.
David Ruffin's blended truth behind the lyrics of this Temptations song.
If I lost her in any way.
I would try something new to reconnect.
The Miracles truly spoke the truth about the things love will make you do.
I guess I'm in a sixties type mood.
When words solely spoke straightly to you.
I understand the woman's that seek respect.
Otis Redding wrote the song addressing it.
Altho' Aretha seems to get the credit.
What can I say about the two Dions?
With Dion Mucci singing about Donna the Primma Donna.
The type you probably couldn't get to ride a honda.
And then Dione Warwicke singing about singing about praying.
Oh, yes I'm in a sixties mood.
When words solely spoke to your heart.
When the Beatles stated don't let me down.
Them words was a message needed to be heard.
And papa never had a brand new bag.
I'm still trying to figure out those James Brown words.
Well, I relax for a few minutes.
Until I get ready to play another song.
Cause for the moment.
I'm just enjoying these sixties songs.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 9:37 AM UTC
I wonder what the inside of your head sounds like.
I don’t care for the look of it, figure
it resembles the inside of my chest when my soul exploded. Coffee stained walls and lipstick kissed ceilings. Liquor drenched carpets and frantically ****** fingerprints all over the fogged windows. Yeah,
I know what it looks like. But what does it sound like?
I want to know if makes the same sound our hearts would make when we’d lay side by side.
Hand in hand. The way otters sleep, so we’d never float away from each other in our dreams.
Or maybe,
a long pitched scream.
As sweet as a child’s happiness on Christmas morning. Or as terrifying
as a woman under her lovers fist, as he pounds his insecurities into her stomach.
Nobody can see the bruises there.
His ego is intact – their secret is safe.
I bet it smells like laundry detergent.
The generic kind – the one that mimics a summers breeze and a springs bloom.
At least, that’s what the label says. But there’s no label for the sound.
I need to know what it sounds like.
I need to know if my voice is on repeat in there.
Me saying I love you, on our best days or,
I hate you from our worst; perhaps, a combination of the two.
Is that why you left? To clear your head of the bittersweet melody of my emotions running amuck.
Were those words pressed against your temporal lobe? Is that where the temper came from?
I’m sorry. No,
I’m not sorry; I want it to sound like a sorry.
Whether whispered from the darkest corners of your cranium or
shouted from the top of your brain. I just hope it sounds like sorry.
For promising me the flowers and teddy bears and county fair rides.
For promising me a love so fierce and so strong. A love so true and so brave.
And for giving me just that.
Then leaving me to the sounds in my own head,
which sounds like the inside of a jazz club,
by the way. As Suggie Otis and Miles Davis and Etta James and Nat King Cole and Louis Armstrong croon about a fierce love, a strong love, a true and brave love.
And I can see it as well as I can hear it.
You, front row centre, sipping warm apple cider and holding hands with a woman,
who’ll leave no sound byte in your skull, and me, in the back,
with my voice box in my hands.
Maybe I’m sorry after all.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
Letter of Rejection
We are sorry to inform you
your services are not needed
your thoughts superseded
and I'm sorry for the pain
We request you not call us
or send us any letter
this will not get any better
we ask you to refrain
We ask that you go quietly
do not ask for our number
do not disturb our precious slumber
the patter of falling rain
We can call our attorney
he can keep you in confusion
make you pay for your intrusion
so sorry for the stain
We reject your inquisition
this is your final notice
please follow our man Otis
it will not help you to complain
Gomer LePoet...
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
She said the Guatemalan women
had a trick for situations just like this.
A variation on a familiar tune of
slow and steady wins the race:
Just take small-calculated steps,
don’t exert too much force,
and when you finally reach the end
it’s like the journey was a godsend –
but I rise helium heavy, each step
an angular insult to my weight.
This modern pilgrimage of bottled water
and Doritos, clothes marred by tide and decay.
Otis, I pray that you’ll hold me once again
I’m not made of hearty peasant stock
My hills are made of concrete and
I order Seamless ‘round the clock.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Otis told me about this cool
brand new swanky dance hall place,
said it was full of pretty-lookers
with baby doll faces
not the sleazebag rough
hooker-types, the scary kind.
So I pulled on my best blue jeans,
scooped on a little dab of gel and
checked myself out in the mirror.
I thought, man you look swell,
somebody might say, you're fine
and with those thoughts,
I stepped out
headed on down to the party club,
hoping someone would notice me, too.
I walked on over to the servery,
to sample some dip and savories,
out of the corner of my eye
I saw a pretty little babe,
she sashayed across the dance hall,
to make herself known to me.
In an instant, there was electricity,
we got to talking about how nice,
it would be, to get together
more regularly.
I knew there and then,
we were going to be real close friends,
she oozed class and she had me rapt,
my heart beat climbed high,
like, I'd scored a drop dead gorgeous
piece of sugar pie.
I thought yeah!
She'd be the ideal girl for me.
And she would be,
if she could dance the Watusi
she'd be fine with me.
Well, I'm not one
to beat around the bush,
I cut to the quick,
so I sauntered right up to her
and in my smoothest Southern drawl
asked the lil' darling,
"Sweet Darling would you like
a cup of Chardonnay?"
And she, in the most playful way,
smiled coyly and replied,
"Why Mister, surely I would,
I can't resist a fine wine!"
As we sipped on the wine,
there was a warming glow
between us two, we were starting
to cog, like in sync watches.
I thought to myself, I can play
a part, in her every dream,
my lil' darling and I dancing,
to the beat of a lava stream.
We took to the dance hall floor,
expressing our close body simmer,
the Watusi sounds,
had us all a glimmer.
Then we pulled closer,
the gravity was electric,
a sacred feeling,
I could feel between my hips
and she,
she had a primordial fragrance,
I could smell beneath her
fashionable clothes.
Reasonableness was fading
quickly with the pace,
I held her face
and we fell
into another dimension.
A flow of passion ignited,
there was no containing,
the flare,
our lips burnt with an excited
and intoxicating fervor,
our skin to skin contact,
was like an ember.
Eros, had my sugar pie and I
in mind,
when he wrote the script,
to the sensual Watusi bind.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
I hereby invite every oz. Of pain I've been evading for years even before the recreations, to come forth, and hit me like a truck. I understand you may need to switch between reverse and drive a few times, but I am ready. I need my light again, for there's darkness in every direction I've been heading. Forever unsteady. At this point in my life i'd be happy to spend it sitting on the dock of the bay strumming the days away with the ghost of Otis Redding. I feel like ive been riding a bike, the chain aint on but I'm still pedaling. Show me a mystery and you will find another kid meddling. But I dont wanna hang around while the dust settles in. I want to watch the sun rise and set again. I want to float beyond the skin I've been living in. Soul been starving to go to a place I dont know exists. I'm grateful for my life, but it's getting harder to shake this. Been stuck in a cocoon phase unable to complete the change because the structure's too thick. Mind still races while keeping body tethered with bricks. But I will embrace it with the waves of sound and silence. There is a way to make it through, and I'm hoping I will find it. I will slowly stand up, again after hitting the ground. Maybe enlist the aid of Chris Jericho to help me break these walls down. I have lost many times but have not yet been fully defeated. I want to disappear, but a holistic retreat may be what's needed. Exorcise the traumas we mistakenly call demons. I'll die before I settle being a cheap cog in the machine. I just want to wake up again to see the reality of my dreams. Instead we're haunted by alarm clocks often robbing us of sleep, and memories of truly beautiful scenes...that just happened. Main character forgot his purpose along with the plot of the movie..why's the audience clappin'?
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 10:26 PM UTC
You were more than a clone.
You more then anyone kept the Temps' rolling along.
Without your sound of sounding like Kendricks.
The group would have faced many questions.
You was the masterpiece needed to keep the puzzle together.
And even now, when we look around.
We can't find anyone better,
Came into the group as Damon.
When you was an Otis too.
You still hold the honor of being the youngest.
You made "Papa" get notice besides Dennis.
And when we take a look around concerning you as a member.
All fans can say you done plenty.
No, you wasn't apart of the Classic Five unit.
But you was apart of the Classic Five seventies unit.
Who could dance just as good as the originals?
From the Young Tempts to being part of the Temptations.
You became apart of the legacy.
Even upon your solo song Funday.
You decribe love in a variety of ways.
Yes, you had an impact on the fans to this day.
And you will have one in heaven.
Otis Harris Jr. a.k.a Damon, you done well.
We fans bid you farewell.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 8:34 AM UTC
Camden Lock
and the sky is
piercing me
grey again
And that Otis song is
playing in my head again
and there's a woman
on the street,
she's singing,
that change is gonna come
that a change is gonna come
again
And I can't speak English.
I can't speak French.
I can't sing or move my
feet
because she's afraid to die
and the night is getting
darker
and I am getting colder
and so am I,
so am I
and the underground
has stopped its roar
and the orange lights
are holding on
and the rain is trickling in the gutters
and so am I,
my darling,
so am I.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC