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letra de first fiction (dec nineteen) - hemlock

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3:00 a.m
i just finished my 8th book of the year, maybe 9th
we’re in the 12th month
i should really read more, i will read more
if i find the time
i’ll make the time

rememberin’ that one postal worker from usps
last winter back in echo park
his smile so strong and genuine
in subtle southern californian solidarity, it said
“we’re all just people”
all just people, all just people, all just people here
in lines and cars and streets and bars
and fights and flights and city lights
and hearts sometimes
we’re all just people here
the truth is stranger than the fiction
i believe it to be true
but what do you do now?
the fiction’s truer than we are

puttin’ the ‘tried’ in ‘tired’
puttin’ the ‘tried’ in ‘tired’
puttin’ the ‘tried’ in ‘tired’

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