spill
Monday, November 13, 2006
14:47
13112006, 0040hrs.
thrity-three and going.
de ride is stagnant somehow.
i am sorry.
i cant paint a swan.
nor a dove, persian cat, lily, whatever.
you name it.
i can only manage a nude pistol.
it is less than adequate, i know.
my utmost apologies.
waters still, ignorance celebrating.
i am not good at dances, moves nor circles.
i am not.
my bad.
de white has tainted.
what is left is an awful candle. waiting to burn out.
Fancy never saw.
Fancy never saw my rainbow.
we dont share visions.
Fancy dont seem to look.
nor think or remember.
Fancy, sorry i am no star.
no sparkle.
no gem.
i cant make your grounds shake.
i cant make your flowers bloom.
i cant make your wicked weasel pop.
i cant, i cant, i cant.
thirty-three and going.
de moonlight has come inviting.
mystery, take me away.
this seems to be a ride gone wrong.
lift me.
hit de turbos & drop me off where fireflies are waiting.
for Fancy is still a vague picture, oh mystery.
de tiger of changi.
