The brink of my existence essentially is a comedy. 
         

the gap in my teeth
and all that I can cling to.



Om
sha
la la


Om
Om
sha
la la


Om
sha
la la


Om
Om  
sha
la la


Om
sha
la la


Om
Om 
sha
la la


Om
sha
la la


Om
Om
sha
la la


Om
sha
la la


Om
Om
sha
la la


Om
sha
la la


If you don’t go outside, well nothings ganna happen. 
She’ll never write her number on a crumpled up napkin. 
She’ll never be your ego, she’ll never be your bandit. 
She’ll never get to eat you like your heart’s a pomegranate. 

 . . . . I need to start a garden. 









when you’re manic you have no fear. 

I know Nina knows what I mean. 

though this is not something I cling to. 

I cling to everything else. 

I cling to life.