Folk/Indie
you know.
Please listen, add, comment, etc etc.
It'd mean the world.


I Will Be A DandelionI will be a dandelion Who grows from the dirt beneath So instead of going in I'm coming out of the ground. I will be a dandilion.I Will Be A Dandelion
You can't stop the spring from springing On you like a nicely designed trap. Surprising you like a child on April Fools You can't stop the spring from springing
And then you parted your bathtub like it was the sea. And never mentioned one single word to me. So would you mind if I asked for your name? Write it down carefully. Be sure to jot it down right, be sure to spell it out right, be as sure as sure can be.


Old Mister JackOld Mister Jack watches the sky, For a ghost or an angel or just some kind of sign. He likes to believe there's life after death, But everynight he lies answerless down in his bed.Old Mister Jack
Old Mister Jack used to cry when he was young. His brothers would tease him and hit him for fun. His classmates were horrid, repulsive and thin. Mister Jack hated them far more than they hated him.
Old Mister Jack sat alone in his room and waits For the people he invited during the day. He's convinced that the sky is lying to him And as he rests on his window sil he slowly begins to sin


It Depends Where You GoI stood, both feet planted sternly on a cold floor.It Depends Where You Go
Metal pipes, dust crawling everywhere. More bugs than under a log. They filled the factory with a familiar scent.
Think after gym class in high school, the scent of human. It tends to make you sick for too long. You'll see double, and not in the good way. A factory: where it snows inside, a needle is a God and you can get meals in a capsule.
I stood, both feel planted firmly in the dirt. Planted, mind you, I'm a plant. Green vines, beds on the ground of leaves and grass. Bugs under a log look up at me, greet me
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"We made a promise we swore we'd always remember -- no retreat no surrender." -- Bruce Springsteen
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I really appreciate it.
Have a wonderful day
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Ogni persona è un abisso, vengono le vertigini a guardarci dentro!
Georg Buchner
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Don't Blame The Messenger...
when a mistake becomes art-
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...I hear the Morning Choir sing to me Their Elegy... So Beautiful... Requiem...
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