I tried to leave this all on your machine...
... But with the persistent beep, it sounded thin upon listening.
She said "I'm having trouble judging you."
And I said "There's nothing to judge.
I'm a paramecium,
Constantly evolving into something bigger
And better..."
She interrupts with an "Oh."
"... For you." I finish.
I feel that it's lost on the crowd.
Change the 'd' to an 's' and you've got your crows.
A whole murder of 'em.
Clara enters, stage right,
Nursing a hangover
And counting all of her miracles
On her left hand.
"What's up, chief?" She asks.
"If I knew, I'd tell somebody." I say.
"I bet you'd be inclined to shout it from the rooftops, chief." She speculates.
Her eyes dilate.
Too much Excedrin too damn early in the morning.
"You miss her little hands in yours, don't you, Naota?"
My eyes become thin slits of rage. "Don't call me that." I say.
"Chill, creep. Everything's pretty okay." She giggles and her eyes become happy little anime semi-circles.
"Enough." I say, and she is gone.
Sitting in a cafe with Joe and Gary.
Alana enters, stage left.
"Hey." I say.
"Hey." She says.
"Wow, you look like shit." I say.
"Wow. Thanks." She says.
Her eye make-up is all runny,
Not in the sexy 'I just got roughed up by someone special' kind of way.
In the 'I don't know where my life is going and I've been doing some crying'
Kind of way.
Gary dips his head into his soup bowl of java.
Joe pretends he likes coffee 'cause Gary's around.
I comment "So, this band is, like, the worst shit I've ever heard in my life."
Joe lifts a wallet from a passerby as she leaves the establishment.
He fingers her ID, like he always does.
"Her name was Michelle." He says.
"Put that away." Gary says. "No need to get involved." He says.
Gary, now pouring the hot coffee down his throat
Any minute Michelle'll be back
Looking for her pocketbook.
Joe just snickers and coughs.
Gary swallows his caffeinesoup.
I sit back and look at a depressed
Lifeless
Former classmate
And wonder what Katrina's doing.
Someone begins to choke on a muffin in the back of the coffee house.
The only three gentleman who know Mr. Heimlich
Walk out the door to go back to the flat
To drink the Morgan's
To get the buzz
That makes you talk
About the girls you miss
When you're skipping checks and lifting pocketbooks
Down the street
From the house that God built.
And you just can't possibly miss your little girl anymore.
"Nice jacket." Someone says on the road.
Charming smile.
"Thanks. It's stolen."
-Brian
She said "I'm having trouble judging you."
And I said "There's nothing to judge.
I'm a paramecium,
Constantly evolving into something bigger
And better..."
She interrupts with an "Oh."
"... For you." I finish.
I feel that it's lost on the crowd.
Change the 'd' to an 's' and you've got your crows.
A whole murder of 'em.
Clara enters, stage right,
Nursing a hangover
And counting all of her miracles
On her left hand.
"What's up, chief?" She asks.
"If I knew, I'd tell somebody." I say.
"I bet you'd be inclined to shout it from the rooftops, chief." She speculates.
Her eyes dilate.
Too much Excedrin too damn early in the morning.
"You miss her little hands in yours, don't you, Naota?"
My eyes become thin slits of rage. "Don't call me that." I say.
"Chill, creep. Everything's pretty okay." She giggles and her eyes become happy little anime semi-circles.
"Enough." I say, and she is gone.
Sitting in a cafe with Joe and Gary.
Alana enters, stage left.
"Hey." I say.
"Hey." She says.
"Wow, you look like shit." I say.
"Wow. Thanks." She says.
Her eye make-up is all runny,
Not in the sexy 'I just got roughed up by someone special' kind of way.
In the 'I don't know where my life is going and I've been doing some crying'
Kind of way.
Gary dips his head into his soup bowl of java.
Joe pretends he likes coffee 'cause Gary's around.
I comment "So, this band is, like, the worst shit I've ever heard in my life."
Joe lifts a wallet from a passerby as she leaves the establishment.
He fingers her ID, like he always does.
"Her name was Michelle." He says.
"Put that away." Gary says. "No need to get involved." He says.
Gary, now pouring the hot coffee down his throat
Any minute Michelle'll be back
Looking for her pocketbook.
Joe just snickers and coughs.
Gary swallows his caffeinesoup.
I sit back and look at a depressed
Lifeless
Former classmate
And wonder what Katrina's doing.
Someone begins to choke on a muffin in the back of the coffee house.
The only three gentleman who know Mr. Heimlich
Walk out the door to go back to the flat
To drink the Morgan's
To get the buzz
That makes you talk
About the girls you miss
When you're skipping checks and lifting pocketbooks
Down the street
From the house that God built.
And you just can't possibly miss your little girl anymore.
"Nice jacket." Someone says on the road.
Charming smile.
"Thanks. It's stolen."
-Brian