Just Felt Like Writing Something

"Poor Old Buddha turned into stone. Mmmmhmmm
That's why I drink tea alone. OOOHH, OOOHHH

Buddha's made of stone and his eyes are rubies. MmmmHmmmm
But his thoughts and dreams are distilled in the tea. Ooohhoooh"

Michael Hurley
The Tea Song


God, such a beautiful song.

Tired...SNL was a rerun. Bullshit.

Here's a bit of a song I wrote from my adventures out here.

"Now I'm holed up in El rito right next to my friend
who knew me back in Indiana, back when I was thin
a quarter life crisis and a heartbreak on the mend
will do.

My friends are getting married, one by one their gone.
The Times They Are A-Changing turns to Blonde on Blonde
The memories of the peepers and the ashes on a pond
come through."