(1999)
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
yeah, the contract the social one, so long ago supposedly agreed to, we were born instead into. what
simply knowing you’re in a maze doesn’t get you out, but the fact is the foundation
stupid met crazy decided to have a baby or two... what else you gonna do?
something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet
i keep smiling forgetting to remember to stop myself.
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
the very idea that i could be
why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything
you are guilty of failing to love and understand me, like a dog is guilty of failing to speak or use
bring me things to break myself upon till
people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring
webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always
of the things that make me become better only music is unlike surgery
just start over not so much like anything was particularly
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