Saturday, March 14, 2009

Twenty Nine Years, Three Hundred Sixty-Three Days

I'm listening loud
I feel like dancing
Wonder what the neighbors think
I refuse to sigh

Mousse in my hair - first time since 1994
This is the last Saturday of my 20's
Maybe I don't want to lie down after all
Maybe even not with you

Hitting backspace at a speed faster than speech
Computers, they steal the thunder
They allow you the chance to take back, to retreat
Perhaps sometimes I just want to spill and not mop

I am looking for new words now, expanding a vocabulary
I am ready to set aside 2006, apologize to my liver
I can howl at the moon with the best of them, Tom Robbins
I just wish my coward's heart wasnt the only one in the cabinet

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