This place will tell you lies
With each passing shadow that goes by
But there's only one or two
At most just three
Or more likely none
That I still believe.
They'll say you're not alone
But don't listen to them
Tell that very long
I did then found out through misery
That the true population's me.
I used to look for days around
But no trace of her love could be found
I'd holler, cry out, beg, and scream
Throw myself down,
Then start to plead
Searched for her heart,
'Til mine would bleed
Offered it up,
But there wasn't any need
Too late to care
She's no longer here
The population's me.
- dy - thanks -
blades are spinning all around, lights are shining, agitators are agitating, cats are sleeping, drinks are cooling, and Lincoln's brain hums along like the extraordinary machine that it is.
I'm still tip-toeing around the truth, careful! The truth has wicked mass and tries to pull me in with heavy gravity. There are soldiers within the truth using tractor beams on the star cruiser of my body. So far, so good. So far I am stronger than the truth.
My burden is great. But not as great as the burden of the one I love.
In other exciting weekend news:
- took a trip down memory lane with the Guru
- moved the remains of my giant, old, rotten apple tree to the burn pile, but did not burn it. Too rainy.
- spent Saturday with a friend from long ago, Mr. Sean Masterson.
- had a bit of a lazy day today, but I did clean the front part of the house and did a few loads of laundry. And don't forget the four hours it took to rock out with my cock out.
I solicit you - if you do download the track - please leave a comment here and tell me how good/bad you think it is. I think it's kinda not bad, especially for my first time trying.
