Hermitage
VIC CHESNUTT
Sitting here resting my bones, fanning my affliction
Wishing I had a few clones, to act as stand in
But here at the hermitage, I am privileged, with solitude, and self-cooked food?
And crying time, and quirks of mind.?
Sitting here resting my bones, fanning my affliction
Wishing I had a few clones, to act as stand in
But here at the hermitage, I am privileged, with solitude, and self-cooked food?
And crying time, and quirks of mind.?
Chestnut's chewing his nails, the Zen of self-mutilation
Forgetting all that life entails, sinking in a silly stagnation
But here at the hermitage I am privileged with solitude,
and self-cooked food, and crying time, and quirks of mind