h a l f b a k e r yMy hatstand runneth over
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Meet me downstairs in the bakery
With its brilliant minds and its bigotry,
You cooked an idea I could ‘bone all night
And we locked our horns in intellectual fight.
Your protestations come to impotence,
All around you there’s a fishy stench,
The annos flood, you’re
ego’s sore,
You refresh the page, you’ve been ‘boned some more.
You embarrassed yourself, like I knew you would.
I told you, your post was trouble,
You know that it’s no good.
[link]
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"I'd like to dedicate this next song to my elf..." |
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That's great. It's a good album, too bad the girl has so many problems. We can only hope she survives and continues to make good music, two big challenges right there. |
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<pedantic sub-editor> "It's." </ps-e> |
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sp: "</p.s.-e>"? Perhaps "</p.s.e.>" if you are Canadian? |
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Cheesus, you guys are so pernickity! |
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<mildly off-topic> If she does manage to kill herself, she'll be immortalised. If she stays alive, she'll only vaguely be remembered in a few years, great talent though hers is.</m o-t> |
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