Naked feet dance with blades of grass.
stuff written by jg
T H E M E S
alphabet fishing
creek songs or love strummed through the leaves
fruit
the whale
Sunday, September 14, 2008
P
There is nowhere
For my head to rest
And my baby
She needs only the best
But I can't give it to her
No
Can't even give a little to myself
I've run out
I've run dry
No couch, no floor
No way, friend
No dogs allowed.
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