11.09.2005
Ouuuii..
You know...honestly? I started this as something that was worth-while and it just turned into a bunch of song lyrics...kinda like the previous entry...so, here we go...um, maybe 1970's?:
Come'on come'on, now touch me, babe! Can't you see that I am not afraid? What was that promise that you made?: So...here I am...I'm Jim Morrison...I've made nothing but prolific lyrics and melodies throughout my lifetime, so....hey..why not? Here's some random shit...hope you enjoy it. Da da da da da...Tequilla!
Oh...time warp. Imagine. It's 1981. I'm German...I'm not only confused, but I'm also hip...I find myself in tight, black leather...discotech...Visage...my apathetic foot taps as I look to the flashing blue ceiling tiles...I shuffle...I shimmy...I fade...I fade to grey...
Next thing I know...I've downed a pint of local brew...I'm surrounded by too many of my lost and hey, hey, hey disillusioned "working class"...I quote this because maybe we have a way out...and maybe we don't...but "Haaaayyyeee...come'on try a little...nothin' is forever...got to be somethin' better than, in the middle...me and Cinderalla, we put it all together...we can drive it home...with one headlight."
I wake up and I find that it tis' the millennium...and it feels like feelings are so hard that they've become soft and that pointless drivel is now, not only pointless, but actually being recorded...and then...well, it's nothing really to do with me...because, I only speak French now...do you speak Stereolab, yes?
Soooo....There's really no "Go Joe" lesson to be learned here. Only that, maybe...no matter where you're at, it damn make no sense...inhale those cigarettes....down that whiskey...kick that puppy..
Yeah...we'll..we'll do something...
Come'on come'on, now touch me, babe! Can't you see that I am not afraid? What was that promise that you made?: So...here I am...I'm Jim Morrison...I've made nothing but prolific lyrics and melodies throughout my lifetime, so....hey..why not? Here's some random shit...hope you enjoy it. Da da da da da...Tequilla!
Oh...time warp. Imagine. It's 1981. I'm German...I'm not only confused, but I'm also hip...I find myself in tight, black leather...discotech...Visage...my apathetic foot taps as I look to the flashing blue ceiling tiles...I shuffle...I shimmy...I fade...I fade to grey...
Next thing I know...I've downed a pint of local brew...I'm surrounded by too many of my lost and hey, hey, hey disillusioned "working class"...I quote this because maybe we have a way out...and maybe we don't...but "Haaaayyyeee...come'on try a little...nothin' is forever...got to be somethin' better than, in the middle...me and Cinderalla, we put it all together...we can drive it home...with one headlight."
I wake up and I find that it tis' the millennium...and it feels like feelings are so hard that they've become soft and that pointless drivel is now, not only pointless, but actually being recorded...and then...well, it's nothing really to do with me...because, I only speak French now...do you speak Stereolab, yes?
Soooo....There's really no "Go Joe" lesson to be learned here. Only that, maybe...no matter where you're at, it damn make no sense...inhale those cigarettes....down that whiskey...kick that puppy..
Yeah...we'll..we'll do something...
