its so funny always coming back - it almost like lifetimes filled with wrists and wine and he who resembles the sun to me - lions mane shaking and tangling in old sleeping patterns (ma bed). That was of course before i was lifted miles into le ciel and dropped down into real stark city with so many po po potentials. I know how to live in this imagined and ornamented life in my head refusing that they don't follow it as well.
WHAT
CAN
I
SAY

NEED
TO

RECORD

MORE.

two little white pills sit wrapped in paper and when have i ever stopped.
i'd like to, but only at the most perfect moment.

like sunboy and i living off of fresh garden foods and singing boots of spanish leather to you in the middle of the black night where i imagine stringing the stars out his long Medusa locks and putting them into my heart.

i need to get out of this town- wandering gypsy all red and purple

i'm coming to see you ma lion of the north and if all doesn't work ramblin' on is the plan.