Friday, April 15, 2011


Today I sat atop a mountain top with my typewriter and I thought of you I thought of you, and times of blue and a hazy, crimson hue Yesterday I walked from Oak St to Main with my typewriter I was reminded of you I was reminded of what you said to me Leave Leave Leave Tonight I'm going to the top of Stony Hill with my typewriter Try to spew out wordly words Try to spew out wordly words and listen to my Northern birds go Cya, cya, cya Tomorrow I'll write you a letter with my typewriter And I'll spew you a stanza I'll spew you a stanza of heartache and pain Analog gain, gain, gain Right now I wish I was with my typewriter

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