quasi_sean

so the meaning is useless and there is no reassurance that anything will ever work let alone do something worthwhile the pages turn so so so quickly and don't worry there are no bullets aimed at tomorrow for another glass of juice spiked w/the euphoria black bus moving swiftly "Holy Jesus, the mountains are moving and I think---------

that there is something in the air that makes me smile when you're around and so much so that i refuse to dream any longer and especially in your arms there is a comfort that melted oh so long ago and now you're here on the color bus that takes one last stroll thru the desert looking for shards of glass that once maybe stuck in my head and i must reach a pay phone so i can call Jeebus, and he can send a rain so we can run thru puddles of tears and mud and splashes for the ages, and lets fuck away the years from before where sunshine was in short supply. i'll hold you close, and tell you stories that make no sense when we're stoned.

inform me that there is a better way to handle this all, and convince me that we're covered in snow and it's all an igloo illusion.

i'm on my way--where the sun will always shine or am i just playing this song IN ORDER TO COVER UP THE PAIN!?!?

if it's suicide you can't complain about freedom in a cloud. i'll decide....and let you know for sure.