Apparently collectors of Picasso painting would have his paintings screwed into the walls when he'd come visit becuase he'd take one look at them as say 'Oh that's not finished, I'll just take it home and make a few minor adjustments and drop it back to you tomorrow' and they'd never get the paintings back coz he'd keep insisting it wasn't finished yet.
Here's an update on yesterday's post, the lyrics are still unfinished (I didn't just compare myself to Picasso, not even a little bit).
I want my songs to eat me
Here's an update on yesterday's post, the lyrics are still unfinished (I didn't just compare myself to Picasso, not even a little bit).
I want my words to eat me
Like a big starving thing
Eat my bones my skin my hair
Till there's nothing left to see
But my words
Only my words will be left of me.
Still Hungry! Every night when you seek sleep
They'll thunder through your window
Just when you think you're alone
You'll hear my words looking for something good to eat.
I want my songs to eat me
Like a big starving thing
And lying dying in it's jaws
I'll hear the sweet singing
Of my songs
Singing me to my eternal sleep.
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