I dreamed my husband was singing me the chorus as we binged on heroin in the desert, immediately woke up and wrote the rest in a hour.

If you've known me a while you know at least one episode from the story of this song, involving a deep drunken state, hitchhiking in various states of undress, and stealing from a church. But hopefully not too many of you have seen the mugshot…

Beware the brain-breaking treble.

Written two years ago when I figured out the ukulele.

Make a game out of life, and a pretty song of death; how else not to close your eyes, how else continue to draw breath? It's as you say, sir; we might have died. But don't you feel it was worth it, just to spit in God's eye?

If you've known me a while you know at least one episode from the story of this song, involving a deep drunken state, hitchhiking in various states of undress, and stealing from a church. But hopefully not too many of you have seen the mugshot…

drowning in a sea of vaseline alive or dead or somewhere in between sit very still and read a magazine wash and wash but never get it clean it must be true I saw it on the screen painting all the roses for the queen don't eat that you don…

A Flamenco piece in palo(genre) of Taranta, ending with a little Buleria. This is about a man, who wanders like ghost along snowfields flooded with starlight near one northern city. He pointlessly looks to the sky. A kind of city legend from the…

Written two years ago when I figured out the ukulele.