Who are we people chronicling our lives with photographs.
I've got 5 days of the same thing coming down my lane,
work the job
work the job
work the job
work the job
work the job.

I can feel my mind melting.
I am no one special.
When did people stop wearing bows around their necks?
And stop caring about where people went?

I have a better quality harmonica now.
All the better to sing the blues with, my dear.

The war wages on. I had a nosebleed last night from all of the poison.