Tell me can you teach me bout your finely written poetry Dont care about the content I just want to make em notice me Such a fine hand they'd say wooo, study it closely Been practicing all day I think I'm ready least I aughta be. Caligraphy…

I heard a story about you I didnt want it to be true But it felt like it might You, well it was all about you and how the things that you do Seem strangely undone And life doesnt help out the weak A lifetime tends to bring you some…

Musta been December cause the air mighty cold A family was moving in, further down the road They were not the colour of the others in the street All the kids were laughing at the trainers on their feet I was only young and so I guess I laughed…

It aint like no ones done this before But how can you tire of beautiful chords In the fifties In Tenessee Where my love was born Two young men upped and crossed the yard both cold cos it was rainin hard. One of them turned said…

This story is a poem sent to me by Lesley Sawyer from a blog on her MySpace site and I put it to music and am posting it so she can hear it and maybe see if it's alright. We don't know who wrote the poem. If anybody does please tell me. j mt

I should mention I was thoroughly tanked on sangria when I made this one. It just seemed appropriate...