Musical Roots or Curl Up and Dye

He acts like a helpless southern belle who just discovered feminism but has a regularly raped house slave. Sometimes the radio aligns with my narrative. That's when I remember not to tell anyone. I said so many things to so many people. My sister is a prophet and said that's what happened when you are so close but far from your twin soul. Purgatory for poets. Hell is getting what you want. I loved you so long it turned into an ailment. I take pills to sustain sane. Everything I eat in excess adds to the protective shield that keeps me from weeping at your bitch wife's feet. I'm almost immobile. Be careful says Waylon of things that are exactly what you want them to be. Gypsies steal. I am a puzzle piece thrust into the air by a ham hocked fist landed square on the table I rest on. Disrupted and exhausted from care. On point as the maid or trying hard to understand his disdain for Zeppelin.