Dont talk to the mail-man
I saw him hide his face in the dirt
As we all fled past
From the coming sandstorm
And the morning mist
The way the angry drivers
Get in the way of my path to progress
And regress
Till all is quiet and dust on the hill-tops.
Atleast the mail will get through...
Sunday, November 23, 2003
Marmite and Peanut Butter
The spreads came home today not the ones I first brought in These are generations removed from their founding slathers... Yet somehow the s...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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Final Thoughts From an AGM You want to mess with me? I can take you down a notch Spill the beans I’ll spill your blood Tooth for tooth, splo...
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Standing on a Hillside Sometimes you look back on where you have been Past the cloud-fluffy daffodils bobbing and green Through the deep dar...
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