blues in dug up asphault

- I like when little things explode big


- some kinds of vowels you can feel in your spleen


- lets stop before the sun gets too low and we're nothing but shadow


- sometimes you find rainbows under water


- what does it take to get up those sleeves?


- I'm just left over dry wall dust and coffee grounds


- rocking gently to wind and opium rhythms


- some day we'll all have to pick our hemispheres


-you're a thousand kinds of angles, your own geomerty