Author Information
Ramble
The hill of mission is on the worst side of the applause. Everything in between comes across the line of wire. Things considered and left to stagger and sway to the right. Everyone say a word and a phrase and a sentence and a nothing. And a nothin' keeps a flowin' but all the nothin' keeps so still. This dead abundance of opinion just grinds and runs off course, and eventually catches on fire and screams until, until it just can't say anything anymore. And within all these friendly people is a vicious certain something that runs amuck in the dark. Ever-present in said darkness is a slumbering something that nobody cares to see. It's a little thing called decency and it means a bit to me. It's ghostly white with chocolate flavor with the sweetest disposition I've seen. But leave it to our pleasant race to burn it off without a trace. See? Believe me when I say, I've got nothing more to say. Not today, tomorrow, probably a couple weeks away. Stupid rhymes and stupid rhythm. All that's left to speak out loud, is a flat and unattractive goodbye from a boy who just can't stand himself some times.
Solution? Sure. Whenever it can ship to my front door.
