half_asleep_poem_eighty_four raze the traitor a so-called band builds around my head is as forgettable as shock. more than once, the owner of a house has taught me the history of their toilet. last time i heard a tear, my heart took a blind shit. i can't take one young olive tree dying in the middle of the road right now. as for the band, i began to wonder if this was a real band, or a sad suite of tall songs in a long room playing. it took me a long time to learn how to get a foothold. i'm not the man you thought i thought i was. 241016 what's it to you? who go blather from