Lyrics

Saxophone Neck, reeds and a New Yorker magazine. And some measuring tape.

Life, my dear, is a fickle friend
he's with you till the sidewalks ends
no doubt about it, that lying thief
always takes my trust and leaves me grief

-or-

Life is like my milk.
I love milk.
But if you buy too much at one time, then it expires.
So I buy only two gallons of milk. (I have a glass of milk with my cereal).
Oh, and I drink life from the carton.

On Tissues:

The best tissues are not Puff's Plus.
Nay - the best tissues are the two-ply proletariats of Kleenex, the workhouse comrades that uplift the whole of peoples to proper nose-blowing. The tissue should be grasped by placing the thumbs firmly on each side of the tissue, with the fingernail about a half-inch from the lining. A satisfying, wholesome nose-blow should be full of texture and volume, and delivered in a single, blasting manner right into the center of the tissue. After the excavation, the thumbs should retract and the main fingers of the hand should be used to draw the center of the tissue down and away from the nostrils, sweeping any stray object into its beautiful two-ply construction. Then the tissue should be examined for any unwanted subjects in the discharge (i.e. chocolate or other foodstuffs) and then discarded.
The problem with the Puff's tissues or any tissue that offers softness is their ability to draw the material from the nasal cavity. In using a soft tissue, these unwanted remain are left to dry and harden, becoming an object of attention for other patrons. Also, the use of a "Plus" tissue leaves the user with a feeling of regret and incompleteness, which I find can never be avoided.
Therefore, the whole of society should revert back to the use of the humble and appropriate two-ply Kleenex brand tissue. It's modesty is punctual and very much useful, more so than the idle, lazy Puffs brand.

Thank you,
a concerned consumer and connoisseur.

Go, Going, Gone

Deodorant, a towel, an upside-down tissue box and some Christmas CDs.

I want to go.
Far AWAY.
To places I have never known, and will never get to know.
I want to wake up every day and get lost, and then find my way. Only to get lost.
I want to struggle with language.
I need to go.
I need to go to Italy, to Europe, to somewhere without America. I want to see the past and the future collide, I don't want to live in the present. Forget tradition and being safe and sorry, I want to be smiling where it is sunny and the water is clear and people don't talk in a language that is easy to speak.
I wish.
I wish I knew what it was like to not be American. I want to be born in England, or Czechoslovakia. Maybe Denmark. Definitely Switzerland. or Belgium.
If only.
I could go.
Be going.
and be
gone.