Sad Professor

If we're talking about love, then I have to tell you, dear readers, I'm not sure where

I'm heading, I've gotten lost before.

I've woke up, stone drunk, face down in the floor

Late afternoon, the house is on

I started, I jumped up

Everyone hates a bore

Everybody hates a brawl

This may be all an invention, professors modeling their intent to try to rope in followers to

flow the mountain. As for those readers I'm already spent. Late afternoon, the house is hot.

Dear readers, my apologies, I've drifted in and out of sleep, long silent nights, I've

of sleep. Long silence presents the tragedies of love. Now VH can't appraise the surface

Hazy with our ten and fourths

I pull away with my four on the rocks

Late at the noon, the house is hot

I started at jam time

Everyone hates the boss

Everyone needs a sad, fat son.

I hate where I wound up.

I hate where I wound up.