the goddamn blues: Thanks, Tyra

And that's what Baby's been reduced to...

TITUS:
Why, tis no matter, man: if they did hear,
They would not mark me, or if they did mark,
They would not pity me.
Therefore I tell my sorrows bootless to the stones,
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are better then the tribunes
For that they will not intercept my tale:
When I do weep, they humbly at feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me,
And were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
A stone is as soft wax, tribunes more hard than stones:
A stone is silent and offendeth not,
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.

6.5.09

Thanks, Tyra

1 got them goddamn blues:

Baby's on fire

Better throw her in the water

look at her laughing

like a heifer to the slaughter

And all the laughing boys are bitching

waiting for the photos

oh, the plot is so bewitching

Rescuers row row

Do your best to change the subject

Blow the wind blow blow

Lend some assistance to the object

Photographers snip snap

Take your time, she's only burning

This kind of experience

Is necessary for her learning

If you'll be my flotsam

I could be half the man I used to

They said you were hot stuff

And that's what Baby's been reduced to...