I'm a self-appointed ?blind? missionary positioning myself to steer this bull with red eyes and fake blood into the pop wall. My sacred ground is found
After a show one night I drove five hours to the next town, all dark highway in front of me. My headlights were lances breaking through upstate New York
I'm saying this with one voice - I'm not trying to express these views with a bunch of extra tracks of me agreeing with myself. I'm not going to employ
In 25 years I never felt so weird. Up to my ears in bottled messages, the blessing is most deafening - the sound of harsh reckoning, sitting on top
If you want to see your son again Wake yourself at 2AM Tip toe past the children's beds Fall out of love and onto the front lawn Leave the bible, wife
down once you were all grown up and you were a little bit of terror, taken care of by six convicts in a castle by the park you used to run away until dark
It was 1995 when our 17 year old hot rods collided, I was driving a 78 Tercel you were rolling in Sluggo, the station wagon from hell. We stacked our
love with yourself, I'd do it. Pull up a lawn chair and watch your species end there - in your own tarpit heart. I think next time I'll leave a darker
so quick to oblige he even suggested that I shave and I did, with his razor - something that would've been far more significant if it had happened at the right age
I'm not really a rapper - I'm a painter. I have to do this ?rocking mics? thing to pay the bills. Most people say it's not all that bad, but they don
