stars falling from the sky

vaisvil

I mumble, drums are loud, guitar and bass are wonky. Its too normal. But then somewhere there is an appetite for cheese. Perhaps in the heart of Wisconsin, but, actually, does Wisconsin have a heart or is it just an imitation mitten? A sort of lost sibling, a drooling, lost child’s mitten to Michigan’s matching but wrong sided mitten. I was a llama herder before I took up guitar. Ontario was a fascinating dream before the French arrived. Taco Bell serves approximations of Mexican food. Should I type more or should I listen to Richard Nixon ranting?