

what's the story morning glory?
the anti climatic end of a well-lived story.
If yesterday wasn't productive I can guarantee that today will be, tomorrow is another story however.
a big bridge, a bigger dam, and a whole lot of lights, a day without story, but with lots of visual evidence.
Go me. Go you. Go us?
There are epic nights, and there's tonight.
Moral of the story, don't accept rides from strangers while drunk at 2 a.m. outside a strip club.
Ah yes, good to see you again Imitation, I've seen you around these parts before.
Breakfast of champions, yeah whatever, anyone can get that, hug of champions is a whole other story.
For the first time in nearly five years I was able to share a story I've been telling for years with one of the people who experienced it with me.
showing the story of my life.
the laughs, the smiles, the tears, the accomplishments, and alas the day where life moves on.
one last banana.
from all good things.
six years and one day.
i ate, i slept, between all of that i made a few good things happen, and this is how i told my story.
the patience. the living. the moving on. today i learn more about love. from a simple biography. a true story. and after years of divorce love has still grown becuase it was true. and all was well. they shall live happily ever after.
shoes in the alley, flying down to cali, we're lacing them up, all before they corrupt...you, rocking this side of swing, catching a ride in my benz gullwing, not enough to scuff this soul i'm sliding, burning coal and our minds colliding, sipping this summer breeze, kissing my hummers knees, dancing with the devil, prancing hearts on an anvil, lush and tall crushing your all, can you handle that, or do you tattle on that cat, talking into my pillow, walking beneath old willow, a tree for your blessing and a fee for you caressing, you're peddling in my direction, heading for my connection, down to the earth, frown twice upon your birth, stand above my grave hand along my brave...heart as a start to the rest of the world, like a pest all but curled in the foot of your bed, it feels like soot spewing from your head, the weight of lead, the wait of time, rolled into luscious rhymes, cold like the story you tell, and lies you sell, you're meeting your fiance, cheating on beyonce, speak on that, leak on that, you've got nothing now, the louvre's got something now, art became of your death, tasting tart and mary beth, she says it's criminal, he says it's original, sam that is, knowing absurd, blowing the word, across the table, a moss of fables, sitting at your chair, knitting your hair, fibs rest on your lips, ribs rest on your hips, here in cali, beer in the alley, empty shoes singing your hidden blues.