Thursday, September 2, 2010

Somewhere Between Pawhuska and Ponca City

Up all night, once again, morning gray
As all Hell, as my mind, as this day.

Stopped the pills, like I said—stopped them cold.
But I’m fine, I’m OK, I’m just old.

Go away. Leave me be. I’m no fun.
All I want, anymore? To be done.

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