My last guilt-themed solicitation delivered slowly in hesitation, it could not soothe me, could not seduce me into repainting these strokes so loosely. How I remember my ex-blue t shirt. Where the hole in it fell... Plain-dressed, wilting and wired, you were the picture of health. Wine glass drowning, postponed narration make every new drag no mere frustration. I fell in debt to those country crooners mourning lost love like Spanish funerals. Dye the grey hair you grew in secret to a root-colored shell. Frozen mid-sentenced smile, you were the picture of health. (No prognosis implied)
supported by 44 fans who also own “Picture of Health”
Ridiculously infectious, instant urge to dance, rock. You're going to listen to Fan The Flames anyway, so make sure to listen to Travelin On too. John Evelyn