Seeking for hours to find the center of your wholeness of funk..
Where you seem to keep it all locked up in a bottle, you label spunk..
You spring lingo from a lost spot in your mind back in the day of yore..
Back when you had that new kids on the block poster on the back of your door..
Seeking for days to find that kindling of a incandescent memory
Where it all had to deal with your inner childhood's fantasy..
Give the grand tour to show the newcomers to the lost soul factory..
Where you get to see all the lost little parts and pieces I used to call "me."

01/16/2002

Posted on 01/16/2002
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