plenty more on that beautiful head of hers she’ll never even know it’s missing

dreams need their distance she learned from burnt fingertips do not touch the stars

every drum in the world pales to the bang the crash the beat of her

for wars not fought and battles not waged axes that fell from the hands of warriors

we can wear the morning air like a jacket and move deep into those bright

it destroys the essence of the poe… stricken with the stink of human no art can cover the foul odor generic mac&cheese flatulated

when you don’t know for as long as i haven’t known you start to get used to it you don’t worry so much about solv…

regret of the clock once wanted to be a watch even time gets lost

i followed the pigeons to Gordon park just to hear them coo their electric feathers alive in the sun

we fly down the highway looking for the next bar open on C… we each do a line and head on in flirt with lonely girls and take bumps in the bathroom

dying to stay in tune they rattle eagerly to play one last song

youth in his favor with young wome… a whole world ahead of him but the silly son of a bitch doesn… instead of seizing the day he spends his time obsessing over…