Over And Out

wrote something, published it, changed my mind, deleted it, don't really fucking care what you think.

Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns

Chloe don't know better
Chloe's just like me, only beautiful
A couple of years of difference
But those lessons never learned
Chloe danced the tables in the French quarter
Always been given so I can't always make her laugh
But I'm proud to say
And I won't forget
Time spent laying by her side
Time spent laying by her side
And dreams like this must die

You ever heard the story of Mr. Faded Glory?
Say he who rides a pony must someday fall
I been talkin' to my alter
Life is what you make it
And if you make it death well then rest your soul
Away away yeah child
It's a broken kind of feeling
She'd have to tie me to the ceiling
A bad moon's a comin' better say your prayers
I wanna tell her that I love her
But does it really matter?
I just can't stand to see you dragging down
Again

So I'm singing
This is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's unkind and leaves me alone
Yes it does

I uses to treat you like a lady
Now you're a substitute teacher
This bottle's not a pretty, not a pretty sight
I owe the man some money
So I'm turnin over honey
You see Mr. Faded Glory is once again doin' time

This is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's unkind and leaves me alone
Yes it does
Like a crown of thorns
It's all who you know
So don't burn your bridges woman cause
someday, yeah

Baby i said c'mon, c'mon, c'mon,
c'mon yeah I said baby don't burn your
bridges woman

New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down.

New York, I Love You
But you're bringing me down
New York, I Love You
But you're bringing me down
Like a rat in a cage
Pulling minimum wage
New York, I Love You
But you're bringing me down

New York, you're safer
And you're wasting my time
Our records all show
You are filthy but fine
But they shuttered your stores
When you opened the doors
To the cops who were bored
Once they'd run out of crime

New York, you're perfect
Oh please don't change a thing
Your mild billionaire mayor's
Now convinced he's a king
So the boring collect
I mean all disrespect
In the neighborhood bars
I'd once dreamt I would drink

New York, I Love You
But you're freaking me out
There's a ton of the twist
But we're fresh out of shout
Like a death in the hall
That you hear through your wall
New York, I Love You
But you're freaking me out

New York, I Love You
But you're bringing me down
New York, I Love You
But you're bringing me down
Like a death of the heart
Jesus, where do I start?
But you're still the one pool
Where I'd happily drown

And oh.. Take me off your mailing list
For kids that think it still exists
Yes, for those who think it still exists
Maybe I'm wrong
And maybe you're right
Maybe I'm wrong
And maybe you're right
Maybe you're right
Maybe I'm wrong
And just maybe you're right

And ohhhhhhhhh....
Maybe mother told you true
And they're always be somebody there for you
And you'll never be alone
But maybe she's wrong
And maybe I'm right
And just maybe she's wrong
Maybe she's wrong
And maybe I'm right
And if so, is there?

BEAT TIME.

this perpetual cold is kinda beat. this mid-twenties beatness that men fall on is beat. this now monotonous job is beat. this on-repeat homelife has grown beat. this continental lack of control can be beat. this frugality is beat. this absence of social encounters is beat. this sexual sabbatical is pretty damn beat. this sobriety of enlightenment is somewhat beat. this temporary bedroom is beat. this stifled sense of freedom is fucking beat. this being nice to people i don't like thing is beat. this wearing of fucked up clothes i fucking hate is certainly beat. this bottling up of who i am is BEAT. this waiting is beat. this TIME is beat. this thanksgiving was beat. the stuffing was beat. 

This doesn't concern me though, because time will be beat.