Heavy on the bass

My minds for sale, here help me pick up the pieces maybee we can hide a few skeletins in the closet, creeaky old secrets when Jimmy is 50, 60′ish where he can peel back the bananna and can realize.  Is it a planned route of his physical and mental being or is it just fate.  He would like to ponder that thought with some early 20’something’ing over looking the green mountains of Vermont,  A big bag of the funky, skunky, smelly green shit sit’n in the middle.  Her hair in messy blondish pigtails, the weight of the world, drift away instead. 

How do I get by each and everyday, I am dont even try.  I ride on autopilot in the stars, its a desolated road, rutt filled and muddy.  How do I get by, I dont even try to hide in the bathroom to take my meds, or on my bedroom floor.  I have to see my general practicioner doc’ today, I dont want to take a shower, AT ALL. I scratch piece of paper gts blurred and torn from a soaking in pigment, the crystaline snow lays in blankets waiting for some snow angel to take a nap.  Tearing me outta of this broken diamond, my views are angled and skewed.  I should lay down and pray for awhile, I feel to effected by all this electronic vibrations, I can see echoing into my brain.   Grandam is sick should send her some good vibes and recharge myself too…

SCHWA

Peace,

Seedless