By distant moon Date: 2001 May 21 Comment on this Work [[2001.05.21.02.37.15519]] |
Blasphemy She read my mind and I cried like that baby doll She used to have... Catastrophe Catastrophic as those useless trees We kept in the back yard Growing until they died, and fell on us In our swings Singing Cancellation Your favorite shows and all you know You never got to see the end of it all I'll comfort you tonight Your wounds from all your fights As they would say I'm a medic Of the soul And you Oh you, are in control. |