I was in love with the world, then and now. Loud metal and soft cigarettes that burn brightly. I wish I could send the sounds and the universe a love letter, in which I gently thank them for their presence. If the oceans could sing, their tune would crack flowers and pluck berries. Shot down outside the nearest LA venue, California is going to sing me to sleep every-night from now on. And I will thank her with my expressions, art and thoughts.
Running through life's valleys, a motorcycle simply to pass the time. Winding around the bends and turns of the southern streets with my lover at my side. Rosebuds kept inside my bra for charm and sitting in drugstore parking lots all night. Stockings and sharing cigarettes. I've got no mother, I've got no home.