It Goes Like This, The Fourth, The Fifth…

Ladies and gentlemen…

It’s a lazy, windy afternoon in rainy Darlinghurst. I’ve spent most of the day editing and napping. It’s been delightful.


I’ve not spoken all day, except for, well, I’ve spoken twice. Once to the Muslim at the corner shop who hates his job and once to the Jewish guy at Vintage Cellars who tends to leave me alone now that he knows me.

I’m relishing in my little hermit sanctuary. I don’t really want to let anyone in.


Now I don’t really think Damien Rice can do anything wrong. Not really. I love this song but the girl– what’s her name? She sometimes unravels him a little I feel. Over acts. Always looks vulnerable. Kinda gets on my nerves.




I have a cover of mine I’m trying to find–then upload– to no avail. Maybe later.
Till then.

A wasteland:
http://www.myspace/alexandracoffeymusic.com


How hot is she?

x.

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