i'm a stormy little singer, an unstable little swinger .
deep down though, didn't we all know and embrace the inevitability of the end of the flowers and a life and of love? and of every sea mammal, and a collision of planets!..i was born barefoot.
country western singers full of brass tacks and woeful sincerity.
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
something i can believe in, and possibly tap my toes to.
His homely Northern breast and brain
Grow to some Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellations reign
His stars eternally.