Sometimes I think that maybe I should take a little time off. Then I realize that I don''t do anything. There are weeds to pull, songs to write and rum to drink but I'm so much better at luxuriating in sadness while keeping very still.
If I just sang this crap it would be a new song. Of course then everybody would know.
I worry that I played it all on red and black came in; I bet it all on love and love didn't finish. I don't believe it ever made it onto the track.
It's 4:00 am somewhere. Oh- right here.