I think the TV is watching me. I can feel it's eyes upon me. It's four in the morning and I can't sleep and my feet are on fire with neuropathy. Straddling the ley lines like I'm straddling a fence. It smells of burnt bologna and regrets. I long ago found it meaningless, the push and pull of this Jungian game. I step outside and find Jupiter. I'm the only one. It's such a shame. Straddling the ley lines like I'm straddling a fence. It smells of burnt bologna and regrets. I free myself of the gravity while the TV continues to observe. The Buddha smiles. The gargoyles stare. I've probably gotten what I deserve. Straddling the ley lines like I'm straddling a fence. It smells of burnt bologna and regrets. Copyright 2017 Gregg M. Pasterick All Rights Reserved.  

Tagses: cosmic amercan,below-fi,acoustic, (we can link these up later)

Link to the mp3 file:
...and Regrets
Link to this view of the song:
http://song-a-day.netscrap.com/songs/?scrap_id=3630&scrap_category=41