Finger picking gooood.
I know. But she brings it out in me.
Ain't nobody here but us chickens.
Ain't nobody here but us chickens.
posted by Polysemous at 6:33 AM
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
About Me
- Name: Polysemous
Sometimes a neighbour's look, a post-card, a telephone call] will carry you up the shore of another life] and leave you gaping amazed at sudden jungle] a world away from the dolorous desk.] Castaway by Margaret Scott
Previous Posts
- Jam packed.
- Heaven is this afternoon on my verandah.
- Thea and Bruce get back together.
- Music List.
- A group of finches is called a Charm.
- Galmara, last night.
- Galmara and Lulu.
- Big news.
- Flamenco
- Swing.
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