the wrong side of the bed

Thursday, March 17, 2005

invent secrets to confess to

i can't say anything right. this is why i have been silent for a few days, other than short little posts. i think that other people can say things better, you know? but, who is accurately capturing my sentiment? not sure, not sure.

i thought it was going to be a mountain goats kinda day, but now i am listening to jeff lewis, and he is pretty brilliant. below is a mountain goats song.

you roared into the driveway of our southwestern ranch-style house
on a new kawasaki, all yellow and black
fresh out of the showroom.
our house faced west,
so the big orange sun positioned at your back,
lit up your magnificent silhouette.
how much better?
how much better can my life get?
900 cubic centimeters of raw whining power.
no outstanding warrants for my arrest.
whoa-whoa. whoa whoa.
the pirate's life for me.

i hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you.
and i sank my face into your hair.
and then i inhaled as deeply as i possibly could.
you were as sweet and delicious as the warm desert air.
and you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon,
we were the one thing in the galaxy god didn't have his eyes on.
900 cc's of raw whining power,
no outstanding warrants for my arrest.
hi diddle dee dee.
god damn!
the pirate's life for me!
7:15 AM


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