Oh, Townes, Oh, Townes, how i wished we'd had beers crying over lost loves who ain't no more here. those holes that fell upon our childhood, put shovels in our hands to fill up adulthood. been filling holes for 45 years, across continents, throughout dreams these holes get filled even if it's with screams. you were right all along, 'them holes're all that's real' and the love i feel, goes in to fill... them holes that fell when I was 12. Oh, Townes, Oh, Townes, I'm lost again! Them white freight-liners all broke down, not a drop of whiskey to pass the time, Oh, Townes, Marie just died. And Lucas went the way of the dead, slit his wrists and split his head... providence is scarce, and love is never said. We're all torn up, but I saw it then - i cried already in 2010; mourning for the future is better than grieving for today - here, we won't say - just what it is we need to - no one knows if it's true - do you love me? do i love you? Oh, Townes, what do we do? great poets have answers - do you?
screaming at low volumes
