Ash St Saloon

you know what i like? when the 'creative act' seems to just spill out, or snowball, or something.. i was sitting around practicing the guitar the other day and i wrote the music to this, and within moments had most of the lyrics to this little song, and with each line that i wrote down i got a little bit giddier and more amused. or something. it spilled out, and snowballed. i laughed and laughed.

it's not particularly deep or beautiful or poetic.. in fact, it's mostly inside jokes and lies. oh well. if matthieu was still in portland, he'd find it funny.

Ash St Saloon

so heather called it:
degrees don't count
and handed me the baggie of blow
but i'm a rock star i barely looked down
i took the stage and stormed the show
but all of this is make believe
i see reality subjectively
i even like to listen to myself sing

oh heather nailed it:
degrees don't count, is entertainment in your soul?
'cause as an artist, you're gonna end up homeless.
(as if i didn't know)
but all of this is make believe
and my illusions work out beautifully
we'll get that friday show eventually

so heather called it:
degrees don't count
it boils down to who you know
we traded emails, and i started to doubt
that we would ever play a show
but all of this is make believe
on the the road and playing constantly
and there's no place i'd rather be