baise

I had my hopes of how I would be
after living in exile, after closing your eyes to me
I even wrote scenes, where I remerged boldly
bearded alive and Eskimo eyes
new baby on my back
but I didn't count the fact that I have ghost in my mind
stowaways great ghosts of my life
great ghosts of old wives
and they're howling
so I spent my wilderness time, pulling my hair
and wrestling them off
yelling at no one, punching snow
I gathered ghosts and gave them my lecture
I bid them away, I pleaded and cried
there's no room in my life for you or you
or your howling
let me undo these ropes and go on without you
and not just change where I live
oh go on get, I said
I had my hopes, of how'd Id be after sending them off
after getting set free
but there's no such thing as living
without their prowling
as you can see having descended the hill
still looking like me, I still wallow like Phil
and forever will
Im teaming with ghosts and Im still whining for wives
bidding my brow, but now Ive surrendered
in fact Ive joined in, listen close
and hear us howling
--the Microphones

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If I cut you off my friends list, sorry, it's cos you don't comment. (And if you don't comment, but you're still on my list, it's cos you live in the area).

Speaking of people on my friends list who don't comment, badcommie finally put up a fucking journal. Dude, you've been a member since January, when you fucking learn? Everyone, go make fun of him, NOW!

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Wow.