to_fall_asleep_is_to_be_well raze i don't know if i'm dreaming, but my dreams are often little pieces of things caught on the wind. one thing becomes another. a strip of gauze gums up the works, so i read the radio backwards for a skinny boy. everything you swear about your sleep — he doesn't even know about it. now he'll wish he kept me in a junker's car. 250623 what's it to you? who go blather from