i take the freewy to avoid cops and stoplights. my job is one smoke and three jawbreker songs away. arrive with coffee staind breath and a stack - unopened mail that i add to the pile of paperwork that is my desk. these letters will never see the light of day. discover my responsibilities for the week, then i sit in my room and write these songs instead. kida like right now - i've got better things to do.
then there's you - you are so well dressed but you're so depressed your life is sickening to me. and have you ever had ideas original?