It's sad but it's true: I am still searching for you. I type your name into every Search-engine, God knows why: Just some stupid hope that you might Be out there somewhere, looking for me
"Wish you were here, again. It was playing in that American bar in Paris, Remember? The bar with no ashtrays. They told you to just "use the floor - And They had this album on repeat.
She is an irritant. Her company is fast becoming a burden - I'm willing her to leave And I hope that she can feel it. She has a plaster on her middle finger which is stained yellow- green with pus. She has one of those
Drinking will NOT get my kids through college. It takes nothing away - Just a word on paper: Word pornography. The train's making noises Like a life-support machine. Getting steadily arseholed
He scribbles on his Board - doodling no doubt, his Mind on other things: His family, say, A wife that doesn't love him Anymore. Bigger Problems than mine. His Eye-contact is good; he has