I was up this morning at a little past seven. I fixed breakfast. I washed dishes. I paid bills. I talked with my mother for about an hour when she came over. I wrote a while. About an hour ago, I lunched on peanut-butter crackers, mixed nuts and Diet Coke. I played my guitar for …
Nightrider's Lament
"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)
