Oh where are you now
pussy willow that smiled on this leaf?
When I was alone you promised the stone from your heart
my head kissed the ground
I was half the way down, treading the sand
please, please, lift a hand
I'm only a person whose armbands beat
on his hands, hang tall
won't you miss me?
Wouldn't you miss me at all?
The poppy birds way
swing twigs coffee brands around
brandish her wand with a feathery tongue
my head kissed the ground
I was half the way down, treading the sand
please, please, please lift the hand
I'm only a person with Eskimo chain
I tattooed my brain all the way...
Won't you miss me?
Wouldn't you miss me at all?
Thoughts and musings on anything sports, politics, theology, music, literature, hunting, and fishing through the rantings of a madman still trying to figure-out why striped bass fishing tactics won't work on Chinook salmon.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Weekend Earworm: 03/16/2013
'Nuff Said?
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