The Music is Rarely Pure and Never Simple

The days go by
like ducks in a line
another one down
pulling with it the next
just waiting
the machine pumps out more
the pieces fall to the floor
just waiting
smoke rises in the west
in the mind a story grows
to keep reality from stagnating
visions of burning cars
and canned food
dust covered people
just waiting

http://www.myspace.com/thepinkertonthugs

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From Kennebunk, yay.