I didn't get the golden goose, now I'm cracking open every egg, looking for the prize inside.
Why do we keep crushing eggshells?
Isn't it enough to be somebody's prize?
All the kings men tell me I'm golden.
I want the answer to loneliness from the whites of his eyes.
It's possible to be happy for someone and so jealous it hurts, all at the same time.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
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1 comment:
i have such fond memories of this machine that i actually dream about finding one again.
scroll down about 1/3 of the way to see it. :)
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