In A Coma, You Don't Dream, You

We, The Desaparecidos, Are Perfectly Prepared For People To Hate What We're Saying Or Not Like What We're Saying.

Sometimes I Daydream About Having A Farm And A Wife And Some Babies And Watching The Grass Grow, But You Have To Meet The Right Person For That.

There's A Major Underlying Idea As You Grow Up That You Need To Just Save Your Money And Get That Affordable Housing At The Edge Of Town Where You're Away From The City Where All The Crime Happens Or Whatever.

Little Soldier, Little Insect You Know War It Has No Heart It Will Kill You In The Sunshine Or Happily In The The Dark Where Kindness Is A Card Game Or A Bent Up Cigarette In The Trenches, In The Hard Rain With A Bullet And A Bet.

I Kind Of Go In Waves With Reading. Sometimes I Read All The Time, And Sometimes I Can't Get Settled Enough To Focus.