"ease up my baby, your future is secure, your throbbing moneybag heart is mine i will make it completely pure" i.o.u. with love. nineteen years & no longer am i considered the good-wife teen. my angst bullshit has a body-count & i sit idly by as events that affect me unfold to  change the course     of my life     while i have never taken a stand i will defend. (i have trouble remembering their names !) now i walk around my  fag-bag with no fucking mind to hide the warm gun still inside, i wish i knew what to do to put myself  on the right  track i reminisce and take a look back at the train that past  the   station heading for a permanent vacation and now it comes  to the final solution how is it wrong when things are so fun? living     the good life, climbing the vine to     disembodied      soul-prostitution i giggle & play  the batting eyelashes better than that ordinary le_ femme babe-product until those net stockings snap at me sharp confining        my legs tight, like holding me in a locked gateway where is the wind coming from ? i asked myself, could it have been my brain's hollow state? my guide? i   followed those  resonating  voices, so here is a real sad song  i sing, but this is the song that must be sung, "when we were all kids all we wanted to do was play & your money was ours while we got our way someday you will get over the generation battle these streets are not yours, your sickness & sorrow will not be heard of any more" index.html