An Entry Infused With Lyrics I Love to Belt-Out

they're waiting for your guard to fall so they can see it all, and you're so occupied with what other persons are occupied with, and vice versa, and you've become what you thought was dumb, Yah, you have become a fraction of the sum

When I'm in the car singing I can't control myself, and I love that strapped-in-to-the-seat, can't-escape-the-music, captivity and total submission to the wyles of the music I experience.

drinking sweet champagne got the headphones up high, I can't numb you out, I can't drum you out of my mind

This is not my home, and I can't listen to music turned all the way up here. The house is too big and the stereos too small.

my body turns and yearns for a sleep that won't ever come, it's never over!

My room is the size of a refridgerator box, and for space conservation I have a cd-player-alarm-clock-radio.

The volume is shoddy.

Music in the car is the only safe-away that I have.

tall buildings shake, voices escape singing sad, sad songs

Next month I'm taking my little girl to her first show. There's an all-ages venue in NYC where the Ataris, Further Seems Forever, and Juliana Theory are playing. The idea of the show is juvenile for me, but for my twelve-year-old charge it's the shit.

So I got clearance from her parents, and next month we get to dress up and kick it like pop-punkers.

I wish I had had a nanny like me when I was 12.

I ain't no psychiatrist I ain't no doctor with degrees, but it don't take no high IQ to see what you do to me.

So the kids went to a dance last night, and after Vicky's crazy weekend of getting stood-up last week, she came back with a new boyfriend.

Todd, the little black kid who's ALWAYS here becuase he's been IN LOVE with Vicky for forever. She finally gave in to the way it makes a girl feel when a guy just runs into walls at the sound of her name.

When do I get affect a guy like crystal-meth? You know, can't eat, can't sleep, suer-human energy and enthusiasm, making it happen, demanding my attention, passionately wanting nothing more than to have me beside him.

Yes: the drugs don't do that much good, but you get my point.

I wanna be an upper.

Those huge baby eyes get to runnin off at they mouth, tellin me everything that's on yo nasty mind, they say your malnutrition in need of vitamin D and inviting me to that tingle in yo spine

I talked to Mama last night. God only knows when I'll see her again. It's been almost four months now, and another four until I'll be home. I realize a lot of you might go a long time without seeing your Mama, but I never have.

She sent me a picture of my great-grandmother, who died in child-birth with her eleventh kid. This is John Walter Eunice and his wife Susie Howell: I favor this woman.

to all those people doin lines don't do it don't do it inject your sould with liberty it's free it's free

Tonight I'm going to the Metropolitan Opera with my boss. I live with the woman, so I'm glad to finally be hanging out with her. One of her gay lawyer friends is meeting us for coctails at one of the intermissions.

I hope I behave myself.

pink toenails and hands, dirty with the money, greasy, greasy, greasy hair, greasy smile, she makes me feel nineteen, all the while

The day will be okay, though, because I got to chat with Regan this morning. He's such a ray of sunshine. All the way from Montana. Regan Clancy is the shit.

the red-head said you shred the chello, and I'm jello, baby, you won't look won't talk won't think of me, I'm the opitome of public enemy