Another stupid Saturday, the conversation starts to slur. And some sasquatch wookie-boner spilled his Mad Dog down my shirt. There's a party-thumpin', booty-humpin' music-wagon in my head.
I was aching, breaking down. The bluest guy, the blues had found. You came, you gave me Butter Pecan. You let me ramble on and on. . When we walked down the street.
Fifteen years I raged against the constant C. The speed of light, the diagrams and haunted sleep. Frozen sheets in bed, my dreams, your garden grace. .
Fifteen years I raged against the constant C. The speed of light, the diagrams and haunted sleep. Frozen sheets in bed, my dreams, your garden grace. .
I'm watching Kevin Arnold's Wonder Years. Tearfully nostalgic for them days back in '69. When the world was all just me and Paul. Playing football in the street.
Laundry Girl, your eyes like apple trees. Your voice like sprayed Febreeze. You had the cleanest dirty laundry. That a Laundromat had ever seen. . Laundry Girl, you said that I should read.
You'll never hear this song, you'll never see the movie in my head. But you infest my sleep and your figure creeps. Through my walls and hums above my bed.
Hello, my name is Your TV. We've been together so long. So many memories. We solved so many problems. . Situated comedies. I fed you ads and movie stars.
Why should I watch Matt Damon cry without her at my side?. I pined as days went by but now it's fine. 'Cause in the end, we're such close friends. Sugar-n-spice and since then there's more time for me.
They page Party Guy, he pages them back. With the number wheres at, they let the phone ring. 'Til Party Guy picks it up and says, "Behind Burger King".
I am a savage besmitten with her. The loneliest werewolf, I wander the earth. My words are mistakes and my thoughts are unclean. This cider inside me, it slides like a dream.