I like to pine my nights away,
lost in a bottle and cigarette smoke
thinking of somwhere else,
anywhere else, but here.
I like to dream my days away,
hide behind a drum riser,
answer every A.M. page,
incase it's you on the other end.
But you don't call anymore.
Distance and logic won out
over passion and desire.
You still make me smile.
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Written August 16th, 2006
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Here's to cheesecake...


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I like to pine my nights away,
lost in a bottle and cigarette smoke
thinking of somwhere else,
anywhere else, but here.
I know how THAT is! -
Now has become a diary/journal entry. As stand alones they are maybe evasive, maybe ethereal, but now seems to be repetitive thoughts, like day to day journal entry.


