Friday, April 6, 2018

No Running

There's not my truth and your truth. It only takes one asteroid, pal. One asteroid. The music keeps getting prettier and the music business keeps getting uglier and my luck never seems to run out. The trouble with telling all your secrets is that you're left with no mystique.

Spring is here and I'm preparing for sunny day blues. There's a weird comfort in knowing that I don't suffer alone. If I could clear my head and patch up my heart at the same time, I believe I could make it to summer.

If our lifespan was eight or ten years, maybe I would have a higher opinion of man. I spend my time searching for truth and it looks a lot like wasting time. Sometimes I waste other folks' time. I don't feel guilty. What else were they gonna do with it?

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