shepard fairey



ras

ras

ras


ras

ras

ras

ras

gustav dore

our boys

death and burial

wm

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Some Days


saunter right up like they’re going to speak
before shearing away, cut against my edge

I’m a mite shorter now
‘fore I started whittlin’

still it can’t be found

what the hell
kiss me sweets

I’m a man
no more

let’s follow this one down, let’s sneak out
in a dawn of smoke and mist
hold my hand

my eyes are closing


No comments: