Sunday, September 7, 2003

i'm a hop, skip, and a jump away from boarding the next train to midnightsville and bringing my baby boy with me. i'm really gonna do it this time, i swear to jesus h. christ. i don't need no cowboy running my life and telling me what to do: i'm my own boss. here, there, anywhere, i call the shots, i hold the purse, i turn the head. i will make things different this time. but you try tellin' that to your baby boy when he's looking up at you with those blue, oh those true blue like the ocean, eyes and he don't have to be sayin something with his mouth of his, but those eyes can speak just as loud, you hear? he's telling me to pack my bags and his bags too, just don't forget his twirly top, and get the hell out of here, for my own good. for our own good. no red-necked rodeo cowboy can give us a chance. he ain't ever gonna change, them never do. so i's packing our bags, me and my boy's, and i'm gettin' the hell outta here.

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