all, all/ my books/// have been burned here and there, ripped to shreds, blacklisted, by people on my front porch armed with forks and spoons/ editors get off on sticking it up my ass, well how am i to keep you down/ play it the way feel it/ i get the ashes, they send me ashes/ i would daydreameat to suck the ahes up/ what exactly was the shattered dream about, or what book was it that made you want to run away, but you don’t have the balls to go there//// it’s raining at the airport they have these things you can swerve fall down and wreck yourself/////// i see for miles miles miles/ – tim barrus