Juan, its go time Papi
I live by the ocean,
And during the night,
I dive into it,
Down to the bottom,
Underneath all currents,
And drop my anchor,
And this, is where I'm staying,
This is my home.
Most recently I've been indulging in a Bjork fetish to soothe the ruffled beast. When I feel a pang of anxiety or nervousness, I put on a little iclandic sprite and the lyrics sync and set it right.
You'll be given love,
You'll be taken care of of,
You'll be given love,
You have to trust it.
Three more days! Three more. My dad keeps teasing me that I've dissappeared and he's not going to see me until we go on our trip. I retort, that every time I come home with the intention of spending a little time with him he's not here because hes out galavanting himself. No sympathies here, I can't be at your beck and call, mister. My throat is unusually sore. The boys are sick, but I'm hoping its just that I smoked a little too much. Throat burn if you will, nothing that a few smoothies and tea with honey (or a good hot tati) can't remedy.
Its not up to you,
Though it never really was.
Will put more, but the mechanism which controls my life (one of them at least) begs my attention. Time to labor a nine hour shift. Lame. ::sighs:: Two weeks in Europe, no phone, no work, so exciting...I am very much ready for it. The only draw back is I will miss everyone (especially the punk) and be poor as a mofo when I return. Ah so, time to flee.
Tally ho.
And during the night,
I dive into it,
Down to the bottom,
Underneath all currents,
And drop my anchor,
And this, is where I'm staying,
This is my home.
Most recently I've been indulging in a Bjork fetish to soothe the ruffled beast. When I feel a pang of anxiety or nervousness, I put on a little iclandic sprite and the lyrics sync and set it right.
You'll be given love,
You'll be taken care of of,
You'll be given love,
You have to trust it.
Three more days! Three more. My dad keeps teasing me that I've dissappeared and he's not going to see me until we go on our trip. I retort, that every time I come home with the intention of spending a little time with him he's not here because hes out galavanting himself. No sympathies here, I can't be at your beck and call, mister. My throat is unusually sore. The boys are sick, but I'm hoping its just that I smoked a little too much. Throat burn if you will, nothing that a few smoothies and tea with honey (or a good hot tati) can't remedy.
Its not up to you,
Though it never really was.
Will put more, but the mechanism which controls my life (one of them at least) begs my attention. Time to labor a nine hour shift. Lame. ::sighs:: Two weeks in Europe, no phone, no work, so exciting...I am very much ready for it. The only draw back is I will miss everyone (especially the punk) and be poor as a mofo when I return. Ah so, time to flee.
Tally ho.