It took 38 years to realize the song Magic Man was allllll about me. Only me, actually. Yes. Yea, I talked to them. They wrote it on the day I was born, knowing I’d be man cray. Yea, that’s right, cray. Their words. Straight from their cherry blushed lips.
You can only tell by the slightest twitch of the line on my face one might call a mouth when I’m joking, huh? And the fact that I am repeating every sentiment that comes out of your mouth is driving you nuts? like we’re on the phone and I’m saying it again so my friends in the room know what we are talking about? How do you know I don’t believe in ghosts, and that my ghost friends, deaf, read lips?
Dry. I’ve got a jug full of dimes on that one. I convinced my college boyfriend I had scurvy one night. We dated five years. Poor guy.
No, seriously, I was actually into new wave, industrial, techno, hard core (skater music), brit pop, hip hop, and, believe it or not, bossa nova jazz and the grateful dead.
Well, now? Man, that’s a tough one. Shoegaze, new gaze, drone, dream pop, slow core, old timey country, new country made to sound old timey, “indie,” booty, bounce, hard rap, all the old stuff I grew up on, and, uh, everything else. Those are just top players.
Look at the cat. He is staring at me like I am the biggest jerk ever for sneezing.