Well, I'm hittin' it too hard
My stones won't take
I get up in the mornin'
But it's too early to wake
First it's hello, goodbye
Then push and then crash
But we're all gonna make it
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
Well, I looked at my watch
I looked at my wrist
Punched myself in the face
With my fist
I took my potatoes
Down to be mashed
Then I made it over
To that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
~~~~daily dylan~~~~
I'm feeling dangerous. Mad, bad and dangerous to know. For much of my life I've had an underlying sense of my abilities -- the old saw about being smarter than the average bear, but they've been encased in a geodesic dome of profiound insecurity. That's lead me to where I am now, everything harnessed comfortably in the world of litigation, preferring to leave any chances to theory, not to practice. I'm developing something bit by bit though, not that anyone could see it. It's going to take me somewhere. That place may not be spectacular to the untrained eye, might just be a little A-frame on the farm in Carolina. My epic destiny might just find me sitting on a glider swing with a view of the Smokeys in front of me and my moneybaby by my side. I don't feel that anyone is going to tell me what I have to live up to now. Kind of interesting to get some liberation at 31, to feel like I have to soul search and figure out what I really want at such an advanced stage of decomposition. But as I've said before, I'm just a Simple, Simple Man, and I imagine my adjusted goals will reflect that simplicity. Some folks won't be pleased or understanding of the new horizons, but in the words of the immortal Stud Cantrell, fuck em if they can't take a joke. This journal entry is a lot like where I am right now. It's not quite what I want to say, but it will have to do for now.
This is Trash
My stones won't take
I get up in the mornin'
But it's too early to wake
First it's hello, goodbye
Then push and then crash
But we're all gonna make it
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
Well, I looked at my watch
I looked at my wrist
Punched myself in the face
With my fist
I took my potatoes
Down to be mashed
Then I made it over
To that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It's that million dollar bash
~~~~daily dylan~~~~
I'm feeling dangerous. Mad, bad and dangerous to know. For much of my life I've had an underlying sense of my abilities -- the old saw about being smarter than the average bear, but they've been encased in a geodesic dome of profiound insecurity. That's lead me to where I am now, everything harnessed comfortably in the world of litigation, preferring to leave any chances to theory, not to practice. I'm developing something bit by bit though, not that anyone could see it. It's going to take me somewhere. That place may not be spectacular to the untrained eye, might just be a little A-frame on the farm in Carolina. My epic destiny might just find me sitting on a glider swing with a view of the Smokeys in front of me and my moneybaby by my side. I don't feel that anyone is going to tell me what I have to live up to now. Kind of interesting to get some liberation at 31, to feel like I have to soul search and figure out what I really want at such an advanced stage of decomposition. But as I've said before, I'm just a Simple, Simple Man, and I imagine my adjusted goals will reflect that simplicity. Some folks won't be pleased or understanding of the new horizons, but in the words of the immortal Stud Cantrell, fuck em if they can't take a joke. This journal entry is a lot like where I am right now. It's not quite what I want to say, but it will have to do for now.
This is Trash
VIEW 20 of 20 COMMENTS
Was going to write something profound, but you already said it better than I can.
But, yeah, dead shows this summer will be sweet