Written for his 4 year old son who died from falling down a window. The Choirboys live, do this song justice.

I am spinning

out of control, ready to meet violence in the silhouette of night. I meet lies more often than I meet the truth, and if I wasn't almost so desensitized it would drive me insane. You wouldn't believe it but, lonesomeness doesn't surprise me unannounced anymore...I greet it with open arms and wrap myself around it.

Lets not forget to live.

My pregnant mind is filled with concepts big and small and everything sums up to a complicated mass too large for the the capacity of my head. Mainly I'm consumed with the potential beauty that makes up the erring and constant bits of my entirety. I'm really so caught up with how beautiful this could be, but let's not forget to live. Wake up and smell the coffee. Whether I'm in the louder part of town or not is irrelevant; life goes on without you and I'm leaving with it.

I'm drifting states of mind at full throttle. This consistent inconsistency has become so omnipresent, I can actually consider it normalcy. It's something like the journey of coming into herself, and coming out stronger sort of thing.

Screw it eff it love it hate it ate it regurgitate it and move on.

Screw it eff it love it hate it ate it regurgitate it and move on.