defi2009–present |
belle2007–2002 |
dada2002–1999 |
sundance1999–1997 |
frere1997–1995 |
julian1995–1994 |
stone1994–1993 |
27 January 1997
i look down at my fingers wrapped so tightly they are turning
white
already the finger nails are tearing small red holes in my
hands
some where i know i must let go but doesn't it just feel so
good
to watch the drips roll down my wrist and arm into my
elbow
some times i wonder how i can be so complacent about the whole
thing
but in the end i really can't so
with carefully measured motions
i bend my head down and turn it
and
one
by
one
pry off
my withered fingers
staining my opal teeth
so that now when I smile they
match
my lips.
Copyright © 1997 Charles Fry
forgotten memories of being burned at the stake sweet dreams sharing hand-in-hand the stranger hidden courtyards holding You princess happy day loneliness fragile, handle with care my small trip to the cement factory dedication this record is for You the day that I cried Last night I woke up under my bed. my silver Dancing shoes Man my heart tears. the three things strait jackeght like you abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz Fire cooks me Princess Alexandra: A Little Story cats up cat twice sweet rain water little children my heart How blind I am in wooden glasses. I know she's crying cause it stains her voice, Dear Family, I pound at my heart We run away from the ice cream truck purple sunset J. Elephant so i walk up to you with this the Soul queen so, you say that i do not speak window dear sweet old Ordinary i am a Harp