troy-lovegates' photostream  

the song sang:
and say you find a will to carry on
and say you found a point to what you have done

the solo artist leaking out da cranium....doll head sucking on hypnotic pablum...a train full of uranium from the tundra...thunderin by...brittle wood splinters in my eye...paint or die ... blahblahblahblah blah blah ...blah blah blah blah blah

blah

s/he needs a rowboat ...i need a rowboat...we all need a friggin rowboat

supposedly Saint Christopher is the blessor of transportation workers ....but this is no Saint Christopher...this is the high-rise-project-housing-prayer...the saint of cut-fences ...the saint of areas forgotten ...layered with old tires and used condoms ....the saint of janitors looking for a good place to drink vodka on their break,dreaming of their youth...the saint of moldy hiding spots for the timely decomposition of porno magazines that sprout fiddlesticks in the spring....the ravaged hinterland...a great place to break frozen early winter puddles with heavy rusty autoparts....this saint protects where i was raised and what i have become but i dont know who she is ...the shrine is clutter and the song long lost ..travel well...