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…
that is another man’s suicide if i kill myself there will be hookers
we can wear the morning air like a jacket and move deep into those bright
broken headstones in a cemetery of… bacteria running rampant feeding off the bones of the dead decay cannot be undone time will always bring about the i…
if you dream me dream me without these horns without scorn back beside the lord
stuck out on a ledge with no stairs no ladder and no one to catch me
he lights one last flame home is where the burning is bed of devil’s rest
i’m writing this to you my friend because the last time i said goodb… it was passive i thought for sure we would be
we are all worth more than the bread crumbs they throw u… minimum wages
the way mom and aunt kim would get… when the video would come on mtv i thought “that’s the life for me” singing for the working class
monuments of song returned to life in my hands records from dead men
to reach for the pen only when you need it is a mistake you must reach for it everyday eventually it grows familiar with…
all of my weary and all of my woe is made into perfect sense a common thread in my favorite son… familiar tones of sadness the beauty of malaise
Sue lurks near my street I have thoughts of kissing her but fear to commit
I cannot be cast under any moon, upon any soul. If not for her,
