Leather boots and a dirge of guitars as we lowered you into that grave

When I awoke, I was alone, and screaming	My Homeland, Tennessee	To my Centaur, my Unicorn, my Teachers, my Friends	Life is material; you just have to live long enough to figure out how to use it
A Pity. We were such a good invention.	Because we are all real people, and none of us is innocent	To die the death of a rag doll	The place where you were undone
I need to build a boat before I die	There is a family in me somewhere and some days it tries to tickle its way out.	Mahna Mahna	Circadian rhythm
Back in Black	Rocky and Bullwinkle	talking head	Yes
poetry