Is now our certain time? Existance. Or are we stalled? Far from the road's end. Too distant to accomplish. This space is a tired lung. Muggin Got my stripes on, Gotta match son Cause if you're the young one, Then stand like a man, Your purpose you must demand. Just us, matching up the palms of our hands Scream out, Damn the world, Blam the man! We are no inferior residents
7/15/10
4/22/10
12/14/09
Flying Coyote
You observe, you perceive quickly. You tangle and twist your wit. Just a bit. But always in a sparing manner. And only for the sake of it - the quickened emotional offensive. A passionate defense.
"Fuck it. Just do it."
You're holding steadfast to your dreams. You enforce it, muttering quietly to yourself as you soak your mind in a million tiny inkblots, bent forward so you can read only the words.
10/22/09
Running Up That Hill
This the Chromatics take on the classic "Running Up That Hill"
And here's a song that may or may not have sampled it.
Yummy.
9/22/09
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