Baby Can I Kick You Tonight
I wrote some music yesterday but didn’t record it because by the time I finally got home and set up I was exhausted. The F train makes my life a living hell sometimes, which is why I keep spending so much money on cars. But then I get to the end of the month and I have $400 less than I could have if I had just taken the train all the time, and I think that for most people the luxuries of privacy and timeliness are simply thrown into the garbage when you move to New York. Though $400 a month guarantees that the old bastard who sings Tracy Chapman on the F won’t run over my foot with his amp and then yell at me to “get out of the fucking way” before tenderly singing “words don’t come easily / like forgive me, forgive me.”



















