this is where emily says some stuff.
there is a wine in my fruitfly. true story.
this song began while aaron was on tour and ended after he got back. the last things to go down (today) were the snare drum, electric guitar and trumpets. the bottom head of the snare was broken and i had to hold it for aaron while he played, as the stand was nowhere to be found. we placed several calls and journeyed by foot and uncovered keys and unlocked doors to get the trumpet. the guitar was textured with a caked spatter of aaron's blood. yeah, we should probably get that cleaned up one of these days. here is a picture of his post-tour fingers, all healed up:
even if you wanna swim deep, you gotta come up for air once in a while.
you're floating on a liferaft with your face in the water, never taking a breath.
please put on your happy face. just hold your tongue and hold it in and hoist it back up.
pray for a swim in the river to erase these nasty thoughts with a contrived baptism.