Melancholic sunrise at the bottom of a glaas...cold sweat reminders of a troubled past, streets paved with gold now littered with glass hold you to a promise you know cannot last."thank God for money it elleviates disease " laughs the drunk in the gutter as he waits for release ,and the flamed haired warrior sneers down at him from his silver horse, then rides off to embrace death with no remorse....stand up! come forward all you who dare, for the world's a stage but don't expect it to be fair..stand up! come forward all you who dare....reach for the stars if you can stand the glare.
A.J.Wilson