...we've said, have arrowheads tonight.'
(Or at least, that's how I think it goes.)
Run off my feet, by an 18-wheeler,
known as (endless) editing.
Square eyes of burning coal.
Cold hands (warm heart?).
Numbers, and letters, and *click-click*.
No headache, yet.
(touch wood... ah, a keyboard will do)
So much to print,
so much to frame.
You see that clock?
That's who to blame.
(Edit: Yes. Those are the right lyrics. Bam. Don't mess)
© Luke Daniel