Something...
Put your MP3 player on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first is the title.
My lips are shaking. My nails are bit off.
Her breath began to speak as she stood right in front of me.
This is the end.
Like a bird on the wire
I don't eat. I just devour.
Never was a cornflake girl.
Kansas city, gonna get my baby back home.
In the last decade of the 20th century,
L.A. Lakers, fast break makers,
Enjoy what ya's got, not what you have not.
Somebody tell me when all this insanity ends.
Wake up!
Uh huh, this is my shit.
Okay, guess who's back.
You know that it would be untrue.
I'm gonna write a little letter:
You jump in front of my car
I died.
Would I lie to you?
Summer has come and passed.
-- "Something in the Way She Moves"
My lips are shaking. My nails are bit off.
Her breath began to speak as she stood right in front of me.
This is the end.
Like a bird on the wire
I don't eat. I just devour.
Never was a cornflake girl.
Kansas city, gonna get my baby back home.
In the last decade of the 20th century,
L.A. Lakers, fast break makers,
Enjoy what ya's got, not what you have not.
Somebody tell me when all this insanity ends.
Wake up!
Uh huh, this is my shit.
Okay, guess who's back.
You know that it would be untrue.
I'm gonna write a little letter:
You jump in front of my car
I died.
Would I lie to you?
Summer has come and passed.
-- "Something in the Way She Moves"