“You will have to double your efforts!”
Ms. Logic tells me that this will never happen.
Say it real fast… so it doesn’t hurt quite as bad.
Dirty-thirty (nine): A tragic scene.
Save your teeth; the doctor says we are through.
Save your crying for her.
A crowded place, an atom ball.
Aren’t I entitled to play?
Of all the days you chose to ignore...
Dirty-thirty (nine).
I’m just an innocent.
What in the hell are you?
You want here? Sorry, Chelsea ahead.
Challenge me on this.
You want here? Sorry.
Cover it in chocolate, for public consumption, and then Imagine.
We’ll trot out Estelle. And now my ass itches; that’s a problem.
Give me my own reunion tour; something to take to my grave!
Ms. Logic tells me that this will never happen. An aspiration to grace will have to do.
You want here? Sorry, Chelsea ahead.
K.P.
Birthday liturgy
