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 Untitled, But You Will Understand
Nothing left to loose.
Nothing more to win.
Doctor can you fix me?
No, it really doesn't seem much use.
The best thing I've done with my life
is made a truce.
Nothing left to loose.
Nothing more to win.
The sinews are all stretched out.
The synapses have mostly frayed.
I can no longer talk to the living.
Some days I know
I've been here longer than I should have stayed.
Nothing left to loose.
Nothing more to win.
The icy rain falls like bullets.
The blank streets remind me of where I'm not.
Ten years ago I escaped over-familiarity,
Ten years later what a lean harvest I have wrought.
Nothing left to loose.
Nothing more to win.
Doctor, you cannot fix me.
I do not know why I have come.
Fading seems a grim solution.
To go unquietly with the setting sun.
Nothing left to loose.
Nothing more to win.


Copyright Monday, May 2nd, 2011
All Rights Reserved
Melissa A Howells / Meloo/ Tilt-a-World


Steely Dan...they say you must be joking son, where did you get those blues?



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