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Showing posts from March 6, 2009

(if ever the tine were neat) oops...

Immediacy demands things needs be Met somewhere in place Yet people people on Still pretending Like an ocean's only moon Like pinocchio's empty spoon There's no luck in the bastard's face But he's stacked just as high There's no dead fish No lemon glass and no one to say goodbye There's nothing for the yellow sink no fruit to pick no happy home