Feb 12, 2005 17:32
my feet are cold
and my glasses are broke'
I talk with the old
and desire a smoke
weeks of Scott
months of Jorge
insanity he's got
why, oh why, Jorge?
so many issues
so little time
fuck, what rhymes with "issues"?
an'ther contest draws near
again I must go
to deal with callers, I fear
and I am woe
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