Robert and Rufus

I wrote yesterday. I wrote poorly yesterday. Robert read yesterday. Robert responded yesterday.

Robert is kind.

But to keep him from having to respond to another blah blog...here's some Rufus Wainwright. He wrote about my life a little bit better, a little bit stronger, a little bit stranger than I can wright now.


Cigarettes and chocolate milk
These are just a couple of my cravings
Everything it seems I like's a little bit stronger
A little bit thicker, a little bit harmful for me

If I should buy jellybeans
Have to eat them all in just one sitting
Everything it seems I like's a little bit sweeter
A little bit fatter, a little bit harmful for me

And then there's those other things
Which for several reasons we won't mention
Everything about 'em is a little bit stranger, a little bit harder
A little bit deadly

It isn't very smart
Tends to make one part
So brokenhearted
Sitting here remembering me

Always been a shoe made for the city
Go ahead accuse me of just singing about places
With scrappy boys faces have general run of the town

Playing with prodigal sons
Takes a lot of sentimental valiums
Can't expect the world to be your Raggedy Andy
While running on empty you little old doll with a frown

You got to keep in the game
Retaining mystique while facing forward
I suggest a reading of a Lesson in Tightropes
Or surfing Your High Hopes or adios Kansas

It isn't very smart
Tends to make one part
So brokenhearted

Still there's not a show on my back
Holes or a friendly intervention
I'm just a little bit heiress, a little bit Irish
A little bit Tower of Pisa
Whenever I see ya
So please be kind if I'm a mess

Cigarettes and chocolate milk
Cigarettes and chocolate milk

Am I wright?