Oh dear Tanyouchka, my dear muse words soft as a first december snow I am reading as I's getting back from work to the warmth of my pad and my old beatup guitar (gracieuseté de mon mollet amoché) paralyzed I was so, jammed and cramped up in the brain with my heart kicking weird panicking beats I thought... for days, almost a week that seemed like ages, unbearable hours, I paranoid big freakin' Time like throwing my sorry self out the window thought I fucked it up once again, acted stupid and rude, made the world worst by being a punkass punk dear T that smell like a flower on top of the world, can be luminous-weird-violent only like Russian girls can be that packs a Tokarev for you, que j'imagine au touché sur ma joue comme la fourrure d'un animal indomptable rare pour dire comment importante ton amitié car les mots n'y peuvent rien en comparaison du concentré en liquide d'un milliers de fleurs sauvages c'est quelques lignes humble bouquet to You
Je (in french, read ail) Je suis né une nuit ou en il pleuvait averse, girl C'est buriné dans mes gènes, un tatouage avec un gun à tatou artisanal de prison et de l'encre de Chine Staedler Je suis en mission, in my veins, I have no other words for it, I'm a transmission A Happy Shifter, a Clown, like one of them black Crows cirlcling up above the jungle laughing and barking, a Joker Look My brain is a Wurlitzer I am, Je ne suis Qu'écriture, songs Nothing really, just poor good ol' words and a beat And then, theres this blues guitar player sitting way down there in the sadow, 's real 'm gonna get you through that damned night, baby All I have to offer Ce bouquet de paroles écrites
6 commentaires:
Dear departed Tanya
I miss you
sad froggy
super
j'écris un livre sur Tanya, justement
comme je ne comprends pas tout ce qu'elle dit, je ne vais pas me gêner
Le livre aura pour titre :
Jolie et impolie
Dear Frogue! I have not departed!!!
I am just "livin' by the glass and gettin' a little ass"..he he
drop by SHROOMS and say Hi, my sweet darlin'
Oh dear Tanyouchka, my dear muse
words soft as a first december snow I am reading as I's getting back from work to the warmth of my pad and my old beatup guitar (gracieuseté de mon mollet amoché)
paralyzed I was so, jammed and cramped up in the brain with my heart kicking weird panicking beats
I thought... for days, almost a week that seemed like ages, unbearable hours, I paranoid big freakin' Time like throwing my sorry self out the window
thought I fucked it up once again, acted stupid and rude, made the world worst by being a punkass punk
dear T that smell like a flower on top of the world, can be luminous-weird-violent only like Russian girls can be that packs a Tokarev
for you, que j'imagine au touché sur ma joue comme la fourrure d'un animal indomptable rare
pour dire comment importante ton amitié car les mots n'y peuvent rien en comparaison du concentré en liquide d'un milliers de fleurs sauvages
c'est quelques lignes
humble bouquet
to You
Je (in french, read ail)
Je suis né une nuit ou en il pleuvait averse, girl
C'est buriné dans mes gènes, un tatouage avec un gun à tatou artisanal de prison et de l'encre de Chine Staedler
Je suis en mission, in my veins, I have no other words for it, I'm a transmission
A Happy Shifter, a Clown, like one of them black Crows cirlcling up above the jungle laughing and barking, a Joker
Look
My brain is a Wurlitzer
I am, Je ne suis
Qu'écriture, songs
Nothing really, just poor good ol' words and a beat
And then, theres this blues guitar player sitting way down there in the sadow, 's real
'm gonna get you through that damned night, baby
All I have to offer
Ce bouquet de paroles écrites
Pat, I see you are hangin' with The Polite Society now! SUPER!!!
Is she good n' da hood?
y'know grrrl
these modern time things
I have to learn
but your that important to me
someday I'll wag it right
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