delivered to the city, a new beginning, not power and the glory in the name of the enemy

i'm not yer fuckin' boy
this is a story
about seven eleven at seven in the morning
they barely stand or talk
maybe they're made of the same plastic
that goes into the fucking bagging system
well i aint red white and blue
because my heart had a say every day
why don't you walk on through?

email

so you know, there's ultimate ugly truth i feel and there's also the beautiful truths. 

if we can be kind to each other without feeling that we owe each other anything, i'll make some music with you once i figure out the perameters of recording on my cheap ass laptop

hope you have an alright day. 

ya know, some of those disintigrating addicts are actually "dead."  i wouldn't invest too much love or time in them either way.  it's heartbreaking.  all they want is more dope.  maybe just tell them the truth, even if it comes out as "your fucking dead."

your generation, your whole damned generation, is you

where''s my generation, where's my generation, my whole generation?

your whole generation is you.  dead generation, blank generation, aint Hue

where's my generation?  where's my generation?  its sick...