Post-depression mornings are often so torrid.Many indeed are quite nasty and horrid.You struggle some mornings to get out of bed,So you lie there and suffer and wish you were dead.But somewhere inside does a neurone ignite:"Get up, you idiot,...

The Pro’s band took a break in between sets, and I sat there looking at the four shot glasses, knowing exactly who I chose but I needed to get them separated so the pressure was off of me. Looking at...

Breeze come take me find me a new place to roam love come make me travel too far from home blue in the eyes of sadness green to the promise I pray brown to the dirt that found me...

The King dances naked        procession marches on      flags of retribution      mother sings her song      into the fire      pages keep us warm      guillotine is sharp and shiny...