Don't believe mama, she got every silver goodbye
I am the goldmine to her black heart
without this heart, I changed
I love her, I miss you
and tonight my heart and the bed are miserable.
... so, I'm sitting at the TSO, enjoying the internet, listening to a Florida State game, and waiting to eat the awesome-smelling Italian cooking.
Upon creating my disjointed poetry on the fridge, I came to the conclusion that there are multiple indie bands who write lyrics solely with fridge magnets ...
not bad for a first try!