honky cracker: Enjoy Every Sandwich NOTE: Chris Honkycracker has gone on indefinite hiatus. However, Honkycracker will continue to be updated by the work and writings of one E.P. Grande until Chris's return.
Elliott Smith, 34, dead of an apparent suicide. Cause of death - self-inflicted knife wound.
Warren Zevon, 56, dead of a less-apparent suicide. Cause of death - too much drinking and smoking over a prolonged period of time.
While Elliott Smith's death makes me sad, Warren Zevon's death outright scares the shit out of me.
Left hand - burn out. Right hand - fade away. Burn out? Fade away? Burn out... fade away...
For some reason I started singing "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina" to myself while walking outside for a smoke break. This surprised me, because I realized that I knew all the words to Don't Cry for Me, Argentina. Every single last one of 'em. Never knew that about myself.
All through my wild days... my mad existence. I kept my promise. Don't keep your distance.
A couple of nights ago, I stayed up until 7 AM just because I could. Didn't want to sleep. Didn't feel like it. Somewhere around 7 I thought it was a really good idea to set up a couple of amps out on the back porch, plug in my guitar and keyboard, and put on a show. Wrote up a set list, practiced, and everything. Then I came to my senses.
I used to have this, er, something with someone. She'd stay over and we'd stay up 'til the wee-est hours of the morning talking. Haven't seen her in a while. I miss that. The other night I had this dream that we were back in her room. She was naked and crying - which was odd, because she never cried. I just took her in my arms and started singing Neutral Milk Hotel's "Naomi". I told her that her prettiness was seeping through, out form the dress I took from her, so pretty.
I woke up singing, and no one was there to hear me.
I kept singing anyway.
(Naomi, by Neutral Milk Hotel
Your prettiness is seeping through Out from the dress I took from you, so pretty And my emptiness is swollen shut always Always a wretch I have become So empty
I'm watching Naomi, full bloom I'm hoping she will soon explode Into one billion tastes and tunes One billion angels come and hold her down They hold her down until she cries
I'm tasting Naomi's perfume It tastes like shit and I must say She comes and goes most afternoons One billion lovers wave and love her now They could love her now and so could I
There is no Naomi in view She walks through Cambridge stocks and strolls And if she only really knew One billion angels could come and save her soul They could save her soul until she shines So pretty)
