Vic Chesnutt Myrtle
a funny pilgrim on a crazy crusade a saucy chaucer, a sorry chapter mislaid whittled with an exacto knife plum right through my load bearing wall I'm horrified now that I could do such a thing but I thought I saw the singer I've heard those chimes so many other times but if I gave in, it had to of been I whupped it out, and destroyed my selfish cocoon since I gave in, it had to of been since I gave in, I hope it had to been I'm not an optimist, I'm not a realist I might be a subrealist, but I can't substantiate it was bigger than me and I felt like a sick child dragged by a donkey, through the myrtle
