Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die

May the good lord be with you
Down every road you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
Surround you when you’re far from home
And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true
And do unto others
As you’d have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you’ll always stay
Forever young, forever young


May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to heaven
With a prince or a vagabond

And may you never love in vain
And in my heart you will remain
Forever young, forever young


And when you finally fly away
I’ll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell

But whatever road you choose
I’m right behind you, win or lose

For, forever young, forever young

Days have been great these past few weeks.  I've tried making the best of every opportunity, big and small. Looking foward to the summer, and all of what it might bring.  I feel safe, and just comfortable in my own skin. Lucky I guess.

Here's a fairly interesting riddle:

I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air. What am I?

Smoke

"There's a little girl stuck in that well. Unfortunately no one's arms are long enough to reach her except for that one guy, but he's helping that woman tickle a midget in a tree."

For an incomplete show with a tempo tear

Second place is excellent

Great job Mirage

So I'm playin poker with AJ last night, rockin some killer tunes, and here's the convo:

Me: I need to get a job. Problem is, I can only really work Sundays

Him: Be a preist

Me: Heh. Ok. Here's my sermon. Quit prayin to God that you won't go to hell. Go home. Spend time with you're family. Oh yeah. Keep your pants on. That's the word of the lord...bitch

nuff said...

here's some delish lyrics to chew on...

intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies
that had knocked the pins down
as their shoes gripped the dirt floor
in the silhouette of dying
dancing on corpses' ashes

yeah, they had plans for him
they has spun the last of the pimps
polyester, satin nailed jewelry lips
while the guillotine just laughed again
dancing on the corpses' ashes

paramedics fell into the wound
like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant
an anesthetic penance beneath
the hail of contraband

they had been defected and excommunicated
and all the pulses were subverted
and they made sure the obituaries
showed pictures of smoke stacks

a vivid dissection that mocked
the strut of vivisection
semi-automatic colonies
and a silencing that still walks the streets

in the company of wolves
was a stretcher made of
cobblestone curfews
the federales performed
their custodial customs quite well

callous heels
numbed in travel
endless maps made
by their scalpels

on my way
nails broke and fell
into the
wishing well

Get cool,

Then be even cool

The aging process has you firmly in its grasp

if you never get the urge to throw a snowball.