Remember the year that you were gone: A series of decisions -- unhealthy living. Writing novels in monitored time.
Cold pavement under static sky - gaining patience, but losing sight - we wrote off our problems as better times.
Buy hey, you couldn't sell the stories anyway.
Buy hey, you couldn't sell the stories anyway.
In a battle with New England of who knows you best, a mediocre vote of confidence. That poor boy won't know what hit him, if and when you tell commitment to take a hike. It's the same old story, so help me if I try to make an honest effort this time.