Paint me in your arms. You're the only person to ask me that question in the last 4 years since the last girl asked me that question. Paint your landscapes, I'll paint my soundscapes. You're a tall drink of water for sure. Like a thunderbird. Kimberly, infinitley. Good guy, best of luck. Jabbed stupid in a state of trance, like a first dance, pulling myself away. Sold in a market next to the peaches. You have to be soft. I know you are. Bullets for the gun, but the gun shoots through the paper thin transparency of pulling punches. Radio voice you tell me I have. Well it's been heard, but not by enough people. They tell me, "If you have a story to tell, open up your mouth and say it."
Coward is a heavy word, which has been tossed my way by the most cowardly people I know. Everybody's problems on a platter for everbody to see. Poor people and their poor problems. Cowards mirror themselves in the most selfish way. Casting their own sticky curse on others. They don't own it. They don't own it in the way they should own it. It's easier for somebody else to carry. It's easier to sentence condemnation to someone else for the muddy river that runs through their own murky veins. It's somebody else's problem. That's the way the world spins in it's madness of reckless kissing other people on the lips like some kind of disease with a laughing sneer. Central American countries don't hold a cure for it...just so you know.
Tall drink of water...pour yourself on me.
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