Thursday, December 21, 2006

I've probably posted this before, but...

We're perched headlong on the edge of boredom
We're reaching for death at the end of a candle
We're trying for something that's already found us

Wow, I'm sick of doubt
Live in the light of certain south
Cruel bindings
The servants have the power
Dog-men & their mean women
Pulling poor blankets over our sailors

I'm sick of dour faces
Staring at me from the T.V. Tower,
I want roses in my garden bower; dig?

Royal babies, rubies must now replace
Aborted Strangers in the mud
- Jim Morrison.

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