Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010


Where's your ticket?
What do you mean
you haven't got it?
the show starts in twenty

Jeanine was supposed to get it
Yes, quite sure
Damn it

I like her, I really do
But really

Oh yes, this isn't the first time
I swear she thinks only of herself
Why, one time
-and you can ask peter
But no, that wouldn't be right

She loses things too
Yes, but only things she's borrowed
But really she's sweet
Most of the time

She should've called you
I would've
But Jeanine's not me

I heard she might get fired
I don't know, always late I imagine
I think she drinks quite heavily
At home
Or so someone said

Oh look, there she is now
And she has your ticket
Dear Sweet Jeanine

Doesn't she look lovely?
But Don't tell her I said so
it'll go straight to her head
"Hello, Jeanine! over here."

And still fifteen minutes
Til show time