Do you not hear me anymore
I know it's not your
6 a.m.
Day after Christmas
I throw some clothes on in
Fred Jones was worn out
From caring for his often
Screaming and
What I've kept with me
And what I've thrown away
And where
He shouted out his last word
And he stumbled through the
She plays Wipeout on the drums
The squirrels and the
All is quiet his tired eyes
see figures jotted down
And clothes
september '75 i was 47 inches high,
my mom said
I said what you wanted to hear
And what I
Leaf by Leaf and page by page
Throw this book away
All
So you wanted
to take a break
Slow it down some and
have