November 30, 2011
i singed my hairs on dusty fire ropes just to see you see me looking my finest blue.
i accept anything you give me, hide in my tent til the time is right
unsefishly placed in the exact spot, to be at your disposal, loving reposal
when the time is right.

give em the old loop around the old fence around the place and see what's up, see what happens
i don't know where you get these ideas but you won't get very far, I can tell you that, boy.
reading like a circle on the drums and a big nose f***ing up barn hose bat
who turned the faucets off? dripping face of a s*** falls off and leaves you
in the bitter snow, tasting like roots and powder, tasting like frosty rain.
this life tastes like frosting rain, my life is like frosting rain, my life is all of the cliche moments of sadess turning sharp into bitter cold,
to a fault.

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