Random ramblings from an amateur rock-n-roll historian and critic,self-professed bourbon aficionado, blackberry growin', jam makin', sometime tie-die shirt makin', ex hippie wannabe, turned punk rock lovein', blues festival going, middle aged pudgy bald white guy who loves to wear Hawaiian shirts in the summertime and happens to be more Stax than Motown, more Alman Brothers than Skynard, more Stones than Beatles, more NASCAR than Baseball, more freeware than license keys...
Friday, December 4, 2015
Rumi
At the end of my life, with just one breath left, if you come, I'll sit up and sing.
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