Yesterday I Did Not Want To Be

Once Upon A Time We Were All Born, Popped Out Like Jelly Rolls Forgetting Our Fishdom, The Pleasuring Seas, The Country Of Comfort, Spanked Into The Oxygens Of Death.

It's All A Matter Of History. Brandy Is No Solace. Librium Only Lies Me Down Like A Dead Snow Queen. Yes! I Am Still The Criminal.

For I Could Not Read Or Speak And On The Long Nights I Could Not Turn The Moon Off Or Count The Lights Of Cars Across The Ceiling.

Jesus Saw The Multitudes Were Hungry And He Said, Oh Lord, Send Down A Short-order Cook.

The Fish Are Naked. The Fish Are Always Awake. They Are The Color Of Old Spoons And Caramels.