speaking of not always there...

We are out of here!
Bye bye Billings-where the Coobsters and the Rocko's have found fertile ground to grow the stupidity, where the paper is lying by omission daily, where the "star" reporter is a fucking little sheep....where the other paper is a pathetic little shit of a dead fishwrapper....oh, the list is endless...
I wont be back though I told others I would be. Aint going to happen.
I have never met such a backwards bunch of silly little shits who vote against themselves...
But, Im retired now, at 45....so eat that shit you little fuckers!
Na na na naa naaa!

Enjoy.....and see you in El Salvador!


I'm coming home with a stone, strapped onto my back.
I'm coming home with a burning hope turning all my blues to black.
I'm looking for a sacred hand to carve into my stone.
A ghost of comfort, angels breath - to keep this life inside my chest.
This world falls on me with hopes of immortality.
Everywhere I turn all the beauty just keeps shaking me.
I woke up in the middle of a dream, scared the world was too much for me.
Sejarez said, "don't let go, just plant the seeds and watch them grow."
I've slept in rainy canyon lands, cold drenched to my skin.
I always wake to find a face to calm these troubled lands.
This world falls on me with dreams of immortality.
Everywhere I turn all the beauty just keeps shaking me.
Running - end - earth - swimming - edge - sea - laughing - under - starry sky
This world was meant for me.
Don't bury me, carry me.
I wish I was a nomad, an Indian, or a saint.
The edge of death would disappear, leave me nothing left to taint.
I wish I was a nomad, an Indian, or a saint.
Give me walking shoes, feathered arms, and a key to heaven's gate.
This world falls on me with dreams of immortality.

See ya!