dietsch

Random iPod second-line poetry

I think it was December She couldn't ever sing any better And lies in the meadow with her hands tied behind her back Don't you feel like breaking out If you want to fly, push your doubts aside I will follow you into the sun That is all that I can do Like I'm talking through the wires of a telephone But I've known many who would gladly swim to get to where you are To the depths of the ocean where all hopes sank, searching for you I am sorry to tell you it never gets better or worse* It'll come clear But his brain was in his ass In the drunk tank And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes *the second line of, yes, This Is Hell by Elvis Costello. This song is stalking me.

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