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On the side of a hill in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground,
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves washes the grave with silvery tears,
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

I'm on (a) Mexican Radio

Well, Denver Radio. Working late and mainlining rock over the internet from Denver. Nice station. Not the cumulus radio playlist crap we have way too much of here in NE Ohio. Have heard songs I haven't heard in decades.

No wonder Janiece is such a cool person if this is the atmosphere she's living in.

But still at work.

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