Birthday Blues |
It was my day, My new beginning,My time to shine,And I slept through it.
My vocals shot,I faked it to the end.
Force fitting piecesInto the puzzle of lifeWas my specialty.
No longer am I So worried of... Posted by on Wed, 19 Mar 2008 08:09:00 GMT |
The Day After Christmas... |
The saddest girl to serve a martiniDeliberately scuffs the antique Spanish tiling,Protesting with her worn shoes,Leftover from numerous other monetary adventures.
Half smiling over the muddy glas... Posted by on Thu, 27 Dec 2007 22:07:00 GMT |
More Props to a lost friend |
What Elliot Smith means...
For every drunk frat assholeFor every inebreated businessman looking for no stringsFor every excuse to get her clothes offThere is a man that feels to the very core wha... Posted by on Thu, 15 Nov 2007 19:51:00 GMT |
Fond Farewell to a Friend... |
A short tribute to a dead friend on the fourth aniversery of his death...
It was a hot summer night when Austin first mentioned Elliott Smith to me. I stared back blankly, as I had not yet... Posted by on Sun, 21 Oct 2007 19:33:00 GMT |