my old lady hates the word body,
i want your body; your body is the most;
let me hear your body talk.
it’s bad.
but it aint as bad as french dressing.
or some waist of skin,
open-faced helmet on his yale head,
riding a vespa,
overzealously obeying traffic laws,
heading to the salon for a manicure and some highlights.
There isn't a mission. There isn't a goal. It's just words on fake paper, sliding and tripping and flowing all over the place, because we're all full up on words in here and there is no way we can keep them inside. Like Tony says, "Nothing in here is true."
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
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