cuz that’s what kind of day it was:
everything’s disturbed
out of place, hint of panic,
want to hide my head.Remedy for day,
Wherein I’m worn to a nub
Martini on porch.
cuz that’s what kind of day it was:
everything’s disturbed
out of place, hint of panic,
want to hide my head.Remedy for day,
Wherein I’m worn to a nub
Martini on porch.
A work of art is the unique result of a unique temperament. Its beauty comes from the fact that the author is what he is.