Friday, September 17, 2010


The black keys on a piano
Late afternoon not even tired
Screwed up as a whistle
Ordinary as fuck
Don't even try I am this close
Whenever the clock pretends to expand
Into town freezes flies
Somewhat nature is being a front
Looking out the back
Sped off the road
Here to keep you company
And dress the house
It's a numb ploy begged off
Crap you deal with I get it

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