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 Content Rating Notice: XGC -- May Contain Extreme Graphic ContentOnly For: 18 and Older, Not Offended  |
| >> Book >> Drama >> ID #1019598 |   |
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 Can I do the things I wanna do That I don't do because of you? And I'll take a left and I'll second guess Into total mess And you're leaving me, yeah you're leaving me You're leaving me with a hated identity But I keep on a-coming here and standing in this state And I’m never really sure if you’ll take what I’m saying the right way But I'm not appalled or afraid; verbal pocket play Is as discreet as I can muster up to be Because the Cadillac that's sitting in the back It isn't me Oh, no, no, no it isn't me… I’m more at home in my Galaxy ~~Galaxy, Blind Melon ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** P.S. If you simply must blog, then you must read
And please visit http://fragileporcelainmice.com/ to pay homage to my good friends back in The Lou. |
| 255. spring break (down) | ID #641986 |
| Posted: 3-24-2009 @ 1:24 am EDT | |
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I got my first real six-string Bought it at the five-and-dime Played it till my fingers bled It was the summer of 69 Last Thursday, Drum made me meet him at the pawn shop when I got off work. He said it was a surprise, but I think that way back in my head I knew what it was. He had found this acoustic guitar and wanted to buy it for me. The whole thing was this softly colored wood, except for the face that was colored turquoise. Drum said it reminded him of me and how I’m not the flimsy little girl that I appear to be. I let him buy it for me and when I brought it home Dave couldn’t wait to play it. “No,” I told him. “This is mine!” Drum’s been teaching me, little by little. It’s way harder than singing! Singing is just something that comes naturally to me, but this coordination of fingers and voice, well, it’s a little bit harder. But I am trying doggedly… At the same time, I’ve been working almost sixty hour weeks. It leaves little time for anything, including sleep. Six hours a night, tops, but I’m not tired. This leads me to believe that I would be in a manic phase if not for my meds. Me and some guys from school Had a band and we tried real hard Jimmy quit and Jody got married I shoulda known wed never get far So the Debbies have lost their bassist. She is getting married and moving to Houston to be with her husband. Her birthday was last Tuesday and he proposed then, but she didn’t tell us until we preformed at Juana’s on Saturday night. It took a day or so, but the rest of us have decided to carry on, even if we can’t find a female bassist. We are just having so much damn fun! And we have a small following to boot! I hope it holds if all we can find is a guy to play bass. It’s not exactly a mutiny, but it’s certainly is a diversion from what were at the start, just a bunch of cool chicks hanging out and making music. My brother’s been playing bass since the 80’s and is dying to play with us at Juana’s, but the other girls aren’t sure…maybe we should hold out for a chick. We have six weeks until our next gig playing Juana’s summer kickoff party to find a bassist or my brother will have to do. Maybe he can be a Debbie… And now the times are changin Look at everything that’s come and gone Sometimes when I play that old six-string I think about ya wonder what went wrong Dave has been nothing if not a fanatic about the Debbies. He even came up with a “concept” for us that we now play under. We all wear the big hair and leg warmers (found on eBay, btw) that signified the great 80’s thanks to Dave and his vision of us. We have the silver bangle bracelets, high-top sneakers and hoop earrings as a uniform when we play. Dave really has turned us into a spectacle! I think he has really gotten into this because it was the 80’s when we first met and crushed on each other. All the shit we’ve been through seems to have a purpose when I don those leggings and suede booties and top them off with a button down shirt all belted off at the waist. I think it reminds him of what we were before things went wrong… I’ll never forget the night he first kissed me. We had gone to the skating rink like all our other friends and split a pretzel and skated the couples skate together right in front of everybody. That was the night we started dating in my mind. (His mother still says we started dating in the sand box!) Of course, his mother drove us since we were too young to get a license. When his mother parked in my parents driveway he walked me to the door. Just before we hit the glare of the porch light, he grabbed my hand and stopped me, spinning me around. My lips automatically landed on his and neither of us did anything to move them. It was perfect. I should have known way back then that this was a forever feeling… Standin on your mama’s porch You told me it would last forever Oh the way you held my hand I knew that it was now or never Those were the best days of my life ~~Summer of ‘69, Bryan Adams ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 254. what the f@#$ | ID #637714 |
| Posted: 2-25-2009 @ 10:55 pm EST | |
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Vortex pulls me in The vortex spits me out Jet-eyed glitter child strapping' on a gold guitar We witness the ultrasonic imploding excitation Bodies exhausted in total elation Valentine’s Day was something else! To start with, Dave got me 20 of everything…20 red roses, 20 heart-shaped balloons, 20 chocolate hearts…20 being the number of Valentine’s Day’s we celebrated together this year. This is what I woke up to. Then off to work, a blissfully short day, what with all the lovers wanting to not be disturbed at the motel. And home again by noon. G and Drum were at my house with Dave when I got home. After months of only surfing when I could borrow a wet suit, G and Drum bought me one of my own! (This is why I haven’t been around much…too much surfing to do!) Even the kids threw in with a song they wrote on their own and Drum and Dave played with them! Then off to the bar for what was to be my one and only gig with The Debbies (named after this song, btw). I was soooo in a Valentine’s mood and decked myself out in paint and glitter and red and white hairspray stripes in my platinum blonde hair, short and tight miniskirt and poet shirt, all in shades of pink and red. Sets one and two went so well that we played an entire third set! Everybody kicked off their shoes and danced in the sand in front of the stage as we belted out classics like “Skin Trade” by Duran Duran and “Electric Avenue” by Eddie Grant. Who wouldn’t love that shit! Well, I’ll tell ya, the owner of the bar loved it! She asked us back for Fat Tuesday, the kickoff of the party year! Oh debbie Queen of the underground Carrying her gold guitar The show is over My downtown baby is headin' home Singing a song She's walkin' alone Last night went off without a hitch, even the song we wrote together from my poem "Invalid Item"  ! Since I can’t play an instrument, I really felt like I needed more than just a mike in front of me to protect me from the audience. Drum gave me an old fake rubber guitar he used in his band. I felt better, but I think I want to learn how to play.Everybody loved us and the owner of the bar was asking us so we have been talking about maybe doing a few dates for spring break. Drum is totally pushing me. He thinks we have “a great sound” whatever that means. We all had such a great time! You should have seen Dave; I swear he was a male groupie! Back in Missouri, he tried to convince me to go to the try-outs for American Idol when they came to St. Louis, but I refused. There was a time or two when I was on that stage, the lights flashing in my vision, that I could still see him and our eyes locked. I saw something there that I haven’t ever seen from him before. Dare I say it was pride??? Last night we intended to clos with “In a Big Country” by Big Country. This song really has meant a lot to me, ever since Dave and I fled Missouri to keep from going to jail, and I know he felt the same way as me. So when I sang so take that look out of here, it doesn't fit you; because it's happened doesn't mean you've been discarded, I looked right into his eyes as he stood at the foot of the stairs to the stage dancing in place. And when I sang pull up your head off the floor, come up screaming; cry out for everything you ever might have wanted I held my hand out to him, beckoning him up onto the stage. We danced together as we both sang into the mic I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered; but you can't stay here with every single hope you had shattered! It was like a baptism for us. All the pain that we’ve caused each other seemed to melt away as we sang the refrain out to applause and requests shouted out from the audience. The light was almost blinding in my eyes but I held tight to Dave, that silly rubber guitar between us. The crowd was chanting, “Debbies, Debbies, Debbies!” Dave convinced us to sing one last song. Drum had prepared us for it and lo and behold, he had the glasses waiting for all of us. We did “Sunglasses at Night” by Corey Hart. I couldn’t believe the crowd. It got me to thinking… I’ve always claimed to be an artist. It was just that nobody wanted to hear my spoken word performances. Well shit, I would say, if there was a bigger market maybe I could be an artist. Maybe now…I am an artist… Shell-shocked supersonic blonde Hyperphonic female Dark sunglasses on Everyone is here to see Her all-girl rock band ~~Debbie, B-52’s |
| 253. choices | ID #635319 |
| Posted: 2-11-2009 @ 9:26 pm EST | |
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So we “Debbies” have come to a decision. The idea of playing for money or fame or whatever is a cool idea, but after days of non-stop killer practice, tons of bickering and lots of regret, this Saturday’s performance will be our only one. If you think it's easy doin' one night stands Try playin' in a rock roll band It's a long way to the top If you wanna rock 'n' roll ~~It’s a Long Way to the Top, AC/DC |
| 252. crazy shit | ID #634165 |
| Posted: 2-5-2009 @ 11:00 pm EST | |
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Commin' over the first hill I felt my body jerk The attendant did not strap me in I'm sure that I am gonna die I see the loop is up ahead This is my last roller coaster ride ~~Sri Lanka Sex Hotel, Dead Milkmen So I haven’t been around as much as I thought I would be lately for several reasons. Number one is that I got a promotion at work. Yeah they love me. I am now the assistant executive housekeeper, though it seems to only mean I have to work longer hours for the same damn pay. (But it’s on the beach…) Whoopee!!! Number two is that I started a band. No, seriously, Drum introduced me to a few really cool and talented chicks and we got together one night and just started jamming and damn if I didn’t know it but I can sing. Well, at least the 80’s tunes that we have nailed down. Our first paying gig is next weekend and I’m a little bit nervous. It’s at the same bar that I met Drum at and I’m not sure if I want to take that trip down memory lane. (You’ll get it in a minute…) So G had a big surprise for me a few weeks ago. She is pregnant and Drum is the proud papa. They are both so excited that it makes me sick. I mean, really, they are both less than a year sober and have only been dating for a few months and…BOOM…they think they are ready for this shit??? Okay, maybe I’m kinda jealous. I mean, that was one of the problems that me and Drum were going to run into cause he’s all wanting to breed and I’m not capable anymore. I guess I’m feeling a little less like a woman for that. But still… A baby; I mean, a FREAKING BABY!!! That’s a real fucking big deal and they are all acting like I should be happy for them cause I am their friend. But who is thinking of this child? An alcoholic father and a junkie mother with no roots for either of them. How the fuck is that going to be a good environment for raising a child? Dave keeps telling me that it’s my job to be happy for them now and to nurse their wounds when things go wrong since I am their friend. He’s been pissing me off lately… First off, there’s the whole lack of physical intimacy thing. After the fireworks with Drum, I know what was missing all along, but I’m not about to beg for it. I think he needs to see a doc for his “problem.” On top of that, he’s been bitching about me having a job since I got a promotion. Why do I need to work so many hours and who is going to cook him dinner and wash his undies? Really, you’d think I had totally abandoned him the way he’s been talking. And then there is the issue of the kids. He doesn’t want to have to cook for them/clean for them/give them rides because I am at work. That is my real job he tells me. Get a fucking life is what I would like to tell him. Not to mention the nasty jokes he makes about my new band. We call ourselves “The Debbies.” Since all we have really mastered so far is 80’s shit, he calls us “The Dubbies” like it is such a huge joke AND he says it right in front of them. It’s like he really wants me to be embarrassed and quit, but I won’t. We’ve started writing our own stuff from some of my old poetry and I think it’s pretty good. And who knows…maybe all this shit will turn into a good song for my new band. |
| 251. Goodbye, Grandma | ID #629718 |
| Posted: 1-14-2009 @ 8:34 pm EST | |
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Would you hold my hand If I saw you in heaven? Would you help me stand If I saw you in heaven? Back when I was a little girl, my grandma always called me Sugar. She refused to call me by “that hippie name your parents gave you” until I was old enough to request it, and even then it only lasted for a year or so. To Grandma Margie, I was always Sug. Grandma Margie was the one who taught me that fire burned and that broken glass cut and that poison ivy itched. She also taught me that fudge-ly-ness was next to godliness and that cotton was softer than polyester and that onions made my eyes water even when I wasn’t sad. Even without onions, I cried on this past Veteran’s Day. It wasn’t that I saw my son marching in uniform in a parade or that my dad was injured in Vietnam. No, both of them made me proud. I cried because that day my Grandma Margie died. I'll find my way Through night and day, 'Cause I know I just can't stay Here in heaven. Grandma Margie wasn’t young and she was sick. She was an old woman who had lived more than a lifetime and filled it with love and happiness. It wasn’t Grandma Margie that I cried for…it was me. Who would take me to Dollar General for my favorite cookies if Grandma Margie didn’t? And who would tell me that I was right if my Grandma Margie wouldn’t? More importantly, who would tell my mom she was wrong if my Grandma Margie wouldn’t? How was I to even know what was right or wrong without Grandma Margie??? Eventually, I stopped crying, not for me, but for Grandma Margie. She lived a long, full and happy life. She had the kind of true love that is only in fairy tales these days and many, many grandchildren and great-grandchildren to prove it. She died in her sleep one night in her own bed in the home she had lived in for 50 years. I guess that is the best anybody can hope for. Instead of crying for Grandma Margie I will strive to emulate her in every way possible. I am sure that she died with a peace that most can only pray for. Beyond the door, There's peace I'm sure, And I know there'll be no more Tears in heaven. ~~Tears in Heaven, Eric Clapton |
| 250. New BFF??? | ID #628647 |
| Posted: 1-8-2009 @ 10:38 pm EST | |
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I look to the sea Reflections in the waves spark my memory Some happy, some sad I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had We live happily forever, so the story goes But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold But well try best that we can to carry on Styxx, Come Sail Away Today was one of those glorious days that made working for peanuts on the beach worth it. The waves were breaking at just the right point making me crave my wetsuit and board and the temp hovered at 75 degrees in the sun that shined on forever, not a cloud in the sky. I tried to pay attention to my job; I certainly did what was necessary for me to keep it. I finished at the exact same time as my coworker B. did. She is nearing or just over the big 5-0 and has no kids at home. From our conversations at lunch I know that she has a live-in boyfriend and has lived through trials with drugs similar to those that I have lived through. “Do you ever want to just go out there and touch the water when you’re done working?” I asked her. She’s been working there for some time and I thought maybe that she did this frequently. I wanted to, so why shouldn’t she? “What do you mean ‘touch’ the water?” she asked me. “I mean, roll up your uniform pants legs and dab your foot in where the waves wash up.” “Well, I’ve never really thought about it,” she said, “but I guess it’s not really against the rules…if you want to do it…” “I do, how bout you. Do you ever want to???” “On days like today, of course I do, but I got to get home to P. or he’ll worry about me…” “Come on,” I told B., as I grabbed her hand and pulled. “P. Will get it and it will only take a few minutes.” We ran hand in hand down to the shoreline where we rolled up our pants and danced gingerly in the cold water’s edge, laughing all the time. I have a flashback… To the days with my best friends of the days that have passed. Each and every one of them, all in a row, and all the things that made my friendship with them special. Suddenly I can picture my relationship with B. progressing from coworker to friend. I always thought that all of them would be my friends forever, and then life came in. I changed jobs or moved or, even worse, they died. With each one, my reluctance to be close became greater and greater, until I no longer made friends on my own terms. But with B. things feel different… I can sense the same reluctance in her to be close to another woman, but at the same time I can feel her letting go, like we both know deep in our hearts that we were meant to meet and develop a relationship. What that relationship is meant to be remains to be seen… |
| 249. Hello again | ID #628229 |
| Posted: 1-6-2009 @ 11:36 pm EST | |
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And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out what's in my head And I'm, I am feeling a little peculiar So I wake in the morning and I step outside And I take deep breath and I get real high And I scream from the top of my lungs What's goin' on ~~4 Non-Blondes I took a break from WDC because I felt that I was writing too much about a life that I was no longer living. In the months that I have been gone, I tried a little bit of everything, from Karate to surfing to counted cross stitch, but when it all comes down to it I am a writer at heart so write I must do. I got myself a job, one most befitting to a beach junkie. I work in a four star resort as a housekeeper. Not much responsibility but damn, the view from those rooms…I always prop open the balcony door and listen to the surf while I work. It’s amazing! Dave and I are making sure and steady progress. Twice a week we meet with M., our counselor, and talk things out, mostly old things but some new things too. Drum and G have been dating for several months now. In fact, we often double with them on weekends. You’d think it would be awkward, what with me and Drum being ex’s and Dave and G being ex’s but actually things seem really comfortable. Maybe destiny wanted Dave and Drum and G and I all to get together… These days, I’m getting high on life and have been for quite some time. The people in AA and NA tell me I need to count the days, but I haven’t. the only day that matters to me is today…no need to worry about the rest. So what’s up with ya’ll? |
| 248. Pary on Garth...or Futures, Pt. 4 | ID #601302 |
| Posted: 8-11-2008 @ 3:12 am EDT | |
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Honey why you calling me so late? It's kinda hard to talk right now. Honey why you crying? Is everything okay? I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud Dave and I had a little cookout today. By little, I mean a dozen or so. Of course, Wayne and Peter were here along with a few of our old neighbors from the L block…and a new fixture, one that I brought along, Drum. Being Sunday and all, people started to excuse themselves around 8 or so what with work in the morning. Before long it was just Dave and I and Drum around the picnic table…and then just Drum and I. Dave has to work in the morning and we don’t. It was really the worst way for us to be…a dark night with nothing but tiki torches lighting each other’s faces as we talked. It didn’t take long for the inevitable question. “Sug, are you really happier this way?” Drum asked me with his eyes lowered, almost like he was afraid of my answer. Well, my girl's in the next room Sometimes I wish she was you I guess we never really moved on Just a few feet away, Dave and the kids were sleeping quietly. All the lights on my street were off when I hesitantly looked Drum in the eye. “I’m happy,” I told him. When I realized there was a catch in my voice I followed up. “As happy as anybody could be.” Almost against my will I looked down at the ground. It’s true, as corny as it sounds. I think I have the closest thing to happiness that we will find here in this life. I’ve managed to strike a balance of family, faith and love that I thought wouldn’t be possible for so many years. This is what I was hoping for the day we left Missouri. “I know I’m just your friend now, Sug, and I am glad to be here, but all you have to do is say the word and I --” “Stop!” I said. “Just stop.” It's really good to hear your voice say my name It sounds so sweet Coming from the lips of an angel Hearing those words it makes me weak Something in the way the words rolled off his tongue stuck a chord in me. Drum reached out and touched my cheek with his thumb. I closed my eyes. Suddenly, all those passionate nights that I had buried deep in my head swept into my mind. Even with my eyes closed I could see the look on Drum’s face. I knew he was hopeful, expecting just the reaction he was getting from my gut. I wanted to lean into his touch and let it lead wherever it was meant to go. I wanted to feel his breath on my skin and let his touch set me on fire again. But I was a good girl. I remember all too clearly what my affair with J did to my relationship with Dave; we’ve been working on it in therapy. The quick fix that Drum could bring my body would never satiate my soul. Somehow, I think only Dave (and the hard work ahead) can fill the void that is there. Drum’s hand slid from my cheek to my neck. I grabbed it. “I’m sorry,” I told him, “I can’t do this.” Before I even realized it, a tear was sliding down my cheek. I told Drum goodbye and ran into the house, audibly locking the deadbolt, and then listened to his footsteps on the way to the car, and then the car start up and drive away before falling to the floor in front of the door in a heap of tears. And I never wanna say goodbye But girl you make it hard to be faithful With the lips of an angel ~~Lips of an Angel, Hinder |
| 247. Party on, Wayne!!! | ID #600986 |
| Posted: 8-9-2008 @ 1:37 am EDT Edited: 8-11-2008 @ 3:26 am EDT | |
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Dave and I had an little soirée tonight, something like a surprise party for ourselves. We used to throw the best parties back home in Missouri. People would drive for hours just to come. I always spent weeks planning them and weeks cleaning up after them. (Why is there a shoe in the punchbowl and who peed in the laundry basket?) A good party was our trademark. We didn’t intend to throw a party tonight. It was just going to be a little cookout for Dave and Drum and I and the kids. Then G showed up. Sober, but only by a few days. She was hell bent on relapsing but stopped by my place for somebody to talk her out of it. One thing lead to another and it all ended up with Drum going to the Winn Dixie to get food for fifty or so of my closest <sarcasm> neighbors and friends. Everybody had so much fun! There was no drugs, no liquor but lots of good food and music. Dave brought a stereo receiver and his speakers out and played every kind of music known to man from his iPod and people danced barefoot in the grass between the tiki torches Drum bought that were 2 for 6 bucks. We had mounds of fresh, tropical fruit and corn on the cob right off the grill followed by pineapple upside down cake from the grill. We topped it off with a few fireworks that were left over from the fourth of July. Drum had met G before but tonight they really hit it off. They spent several hours huddled together talking about ways to have fun sober. When the dust settled, there was only me and Dave…and Drum. He just couldn’t believe how much fun people had. His eyes were wild with excitement and his tone was so enthusiastic I hated to tell him I was calling it a night. “I’ve spent tens of thousands of dollars on a party and people didn’t have this much fun!” he told me. “It’s all you guys…something about you two just makes people…happy, I guess.” “She makes me happy,” Dave said, “so maybe happy is contagious?” Once Drum left, Dave and I took a shower together. It’s not a sex thing, just a way for us to promote the intimacy. As he was shampooing my hair Dave said, “I still can’t believe it.” “Can’t believe what?” I asked. That you gave up Drum’s millions to be with me.” I turned and kissed him lightly. “I bet it makes sense to him after tonight. Ask him.” I am a woman of (too) many words but I can’t find the right ones to describe this feeling. Money talks But it don’t sing and dance And it don’t walk As long as I can have you here with me I’d much rather be Forever in blue jeans. Babe ~~Forever in Blue Jeans, Neil Diamond |
| 246. Futures, pt. 3 | ID #600487 |
| Posted: 8-6-2008 @ 12:46 am EDT Edited: 8-6-2008 @ 12:52 am EDT | |
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Little ditty, about Jack and Diane 2 American kids growin up in the heartland. Jacky goin' be a football star Diane's debutante--backseat of Jacky's car I started my junior year of high school without Dave. He had decided to quit school and work full time at the carpet cleaning company he was at. The ultimate goal…paying for our wedding. So I found myself in late October attending the school Halloween dance with one of my “throw-aways” as Dave called them. They were the gay guys who hadn’t come out of the closet yet and needed to look straight. I, on the other hand, needed an escort since I had been nominated to the court of Royal Autumn and Dave couldn't be that for me since he had dropped out and only students were allowed at the dance. So Peter agreed to go with me. I didn’t win, but I came in first runner up and was graceful enough of a loser to dance a spotlight dance with Peter. I didn’t really want to be there among the paper decorations and beautiful gowns and tuxes. I wanted to be with Dave. When the dance was over, everybody was going to the annual hayride out at Miller’s pond. Peter was my excuse to not go home. I was going with him on the hayride I told my folks. Instead, Dave picked me up at the stroke of ten from the dance. I kissed Peter on the cheek and hopped into Dave’s ’68 Mustang to go parking. I had butterflies in my stomach and fancy ideas of love in my head. This was the night David Jr. was conceived… Oh yeah life goes on Long after the thrill of livin is gone Oh yeah they say life goes on Long after the thrill of livin is gone The years swept in, one behind the other. There were kids and bills and other assorted responsibilities. Sometime between the birth of David, Jr. and the death of Noah things changed. That pretty picture I had in my head all those long nights ago of what romance was faded into the picture I have now of a man waiting patiently for me to regain consciousness after an operation. Drum gave me such a big thrill that I think I forgot what was really important in life. The big pretty bows he can put on just about everything in life aren’t so pretty when he’s not there… But Dave is still here. He never really left me and I never really left him. I’m not too sure when it happened, but Dave and I became best friends. That you can take to the bank. Not that there’s not more parties on the horizon; there are. Dave and I are throwing a big bash for Labor Day and everybody from the top of local society to the lowliest low person is coming. We have a city councilman coming…and giving a ride to a guy that serves meals at the soup kitchen in exchange for food. I’ve ordered a half a pig and a side of beef and bought three new bbq pits for the occasion, all courtesy of Drum. Drum is trying real hard to be our friend. He truly just seems to want to be around us, which only adds to this idea that has been floating around in my head about him only being attracted to me for the instant family. Twice now he has come over laden with food and games and just hung out. It feels a little weird, but not as weird the second time. Maybe in time the weird will just go away. It almost feels like that night when we were kids… Gonna let it rock, let it roll Let the bible belt, come and save my soul Hold on to 16 as long as you can Changes come around real soon, make us women and men. So Dave and I decided to make our reunion official with nothing other than a mortgage. Yes, we took out a home equity loan to buy a boat. It’s a beautiful 28 foot sailboat that we have named the Abby Lee. Neither of us knows how to sail, but we aren’t about to let that stop us. My brother has been sailing for twenty years and has plenty of friends to help teach us before we plan to use it. In about 25 years, Dave and I will sail off into the wild blue yonder, with just each other. So it isn’t what I expected, but it is love. There are no pretty packages, no heavenly songs, no poetic verses. Just me and Dave, sailing off into the sunset… Little ditty, about Jack and Diane Two American kids doin' best they can ~~Jack and Diane, John Mellancamp |
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