Some people hear their own inner voices. Such people become crazy, or they become legends.

Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets. Got enough guilt to start my own religion.

She hands you this coat. She gives you her clothes. These cars collide. Pretty in pink. Isn’t she?

Kaleidescoping then shassez in a blink. The glasses fly suddenly. They tossed and turned a sight.

But you gotta be down. A nickel gotta be true. Cause otherwise this B ain’t got no time for you.

Cyclone ranger. That’s why I’m turning Japanese. I really think so.

One startling afternoon. And in the wink of an eye. Now to me you apply so suddenly.

My heart wants to sigh like a chime that flys from the church on a breeze. The hills are alive.

Strike up a conversation with a black-haired flamenco dancer. She’s suddenly beautiful.

Hey little sister what have you done. Hey little sister shot gun! It’s a nice day for a white wedding.