Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Stuck-in-the-mud
I've got a batch of songs that need some attention, like a hot dinner growing cold. I have not been able to put any energy into them due to other circumstances. Today I picked up a guitar and noticed that my fingers weren't moving a quickly as they once did. I have to do something about all this. I feel like the rocket boosters of an Apollo mission. I burned hot for a little white, now I've broken off. I'm drifting. I know I won't make it to the moon with the rest of the ship. Maybe one of these days I'll find my way into the orbit of some lush, distant planet.
Ravi struck at 14:38
Monday, October 03, 2011
Yea, though my hairline recedeth and my nosehairs grow long and my lungs cougheth up flem, my mind groweth stronger with every rising sun, and so may thine. Can I get an amen?