Wednesday, March 18, 2009

I was the young American

You ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler
A pimp's got a Cadi and a lady got a Chrysler
Black's got respect, and white's got his soul train
Mama's got cramps, and look at your hands ache
(I heard the news today, oh boy)
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain't there a man who can say no more?
And, ain't there a woman I can
sock on the jaw?
And, ain't there a child I can hold without judging?
Ain't there a pen that will write before they die?
Ain't you proud that you've still got faces?
Ain't there one damn song that can make me
break down and cry?

-Thank you David Bowie (and his labyrinthine package) for one of my favorite songs of all time. Much love!

It's going to be that kind of day!
Woke up at 4:49am again. Hmmm. Was having crazy dreams about you. Once again, Lord, you broke my heart. I let it happen over and over again. How does Pandora know I need a super injection of Bob Marley today?

At least Oprah was there. She turned out to be a pretty good shoulder.

We'll share the shelter of my single bed.

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