Like Lions Purring

This book is about the blues and the used and the things that get left behind. This book is a testament to old dogs that crawl under porches to die in the cool dark. It’s about the missing and the lost. This book is a eulogy for old wounds and love tunes and secret abortions. This book is a strong derivative of the disgusting things we should never get used to. Many pugilists of principle and procurers of death have attempted to tell it right in the past, but the ship sank, or the ceiling collapsed, or the spirit left the body on the road. In between the regrets and the defeats and the words that show the skeleton's heart, is the duplicitous nature of man. This book is drenched in jazz and I speak solely for the lunatic fringe. We’ve never sacrificed freedom for comfort. Life is never more precious than when the dark night of the soul dissolves on the horizon and the pain that remains is just enough to gracefully bear. This book is about a trashcan fire that still burns.