Tables

So ah
There's a lot of songs that came from us today. The Paper Makers. And about eight people sitting on the patio at Kelsey's.
I guess that's like... well, we played 26 songs, and some of them twice, so maybe about 4 or 5 songs per person. That's pretty sweet.
I'm a little tired now.
Two hundred bucks and a huh? Life as a musician? Shit. That's a week of groceries.
I'll build a house out of the boxes from NoFrills.

Newpeople, Oldpeople

One day we'll all wake up and be newpeople.

"Don't talk to me like that anymore. I'm a newperson."

Forget about the endurance, the joy, the pain, the stories, strengths and weaknesses that sum up our present selves. We are born out of thin air to be our perfect selves.
Refresh. Sequentially remove everyone who witnessed that growth from your life; everyone who would remember and maybe appreciate everything that made us who we are in this moment.

At every second I am both a bud and a blossom.

For the sake of being more accessible, I can't wait to be old and still madly in love. Wearing shorts and running shoes, holding hands and talking about why the doctor's telling me to take it easy. Sit on my front porch while Dan fixes it for the price of a fruit salad and a sandwich, while I knit my grandbaby a crappy scarf (but I try my darndest to make it nice - no pun intended).

They say the grass is always greener on the other side.
Newpeople, Oldpeople.
Clovers and ferns are pretty much always green on both sides.