A look at Hosea through the eyes of Ephesians 5. By Jonathan Thomas

they're down there and they're making a tunnel under my bedroom floor... all night i hear the scrape of tiny picks and shovels and i cant take much more. i don't who they are but i know what they want, and i aint nobody's fool... i got some gas…

hopelessness. if you succeed now, you'll fail later. i wrote this song on a banjo :) but never got it in the recording.

crimson should have been my cleanser...

family thoughts

you owe your life to no country or land but to the ones that matter.

this was just a little doodle that was fun. someday i'll buy a mandolin and actually learn how to play it.

lyrics are "poop" by Charles Bukowski