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Apple Pie Hopes



Last Updated: 11/20/2009

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Status: Single
City: Boakland-Oakeley-SF
State: California
Country: US
Signup Date: 1/20/2006
Saturday, March 24, 2007 

Current mood:  hopeful
Category: Life
A PROSTITUTION SONG - words by: Jumpin' Justin Kanalakis and Ed Hardy, jr.

She only wants sex when she's sober,
But she needs it when she drinks.
Her lips have no defenses,
her favorite shade is pink.
Her polyester dresses,
they all fall down to her feet.
She ain't never learned her lesson,
she still sells sex in the streets.

A prostitution ring
picks up business in the spring,
hopeful for redemption,
from the cold hands winter brings.
The women all look thinner
and the men are shaven clean
and they both know their intentions are to
get just what they need.

All the years of bendin' over,
has made her back a little weak.
No matter how expensive
They all gladly pay her fee
But the men she seeks for friendship
They all fall down to her feet.
She ain't never learned her lesson
She still sells sex in the streets.

She's as dry as British humor
but she gets wet just like the rest
she's the best at living failure
but she wants to try success
her Valentine's tradition
she's on her knees for to confess
She wants to learn her lesson
And truly stop sellin' sex.

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Dead Fawn - words by: Jumpin' Justin Kanalakis and Ed Hardy, jr.

Your another dead fawn out on the highway
w/ pale eyes starin' up at me
tryin' too catch my sympathy

My love is spread too thin
Let me in! Let me in!

It's a tough, tough try to conceal it
and you're goin' down so hard you could barely feel it
it's a tough, tough try to reveal it
and you got a wound so big you could never heal it
and it's down between your legs baby can't you feel it

You're another dead fawn out on the highway
w/ big blue eyes starin' up at me
tryin' to give me what you think I need
just another dead fawn in the morning

My love is spread too thin
Let me in! Let me in!

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Children's Crusade - words by Jumpin' Justin Kanalakis and Ed Hardy, jr.

As the boys returns his pistol to it's holster.
He's sees the remnants of his poor village smolder
There's no age, no innocence for this child soldier

As the boy, as the boy, as the boy breaks down
All he sees, all he hears, all he feels is a sound.
Explosions everywhere in the air and on the ground.
As the boy, as the boy, as the boy breaks down

As the boy slowly grows into his shoulders.
He mourns for his war-pillaged culture
There's no place, no privilege for this child soldier.

As the boy, as the boy, as the boy breaks down
All he sees, all he hears, all he feels is a sound.
Explosions everywhere in the air and on the ground.
As the boy, as the boy, as the boy breaks down

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Checks and Balances for our Vital Organs - words by Jumpin' Justin Kanalakis

She said "I do" I said it too
And then we kissed, paid our first month's rent
So we bought a car, got off to a good start
Together we worked from our home, selling things over the phone

It came from our heart
But our brains played a part
It came from my heart
But my brain played a part

We renewed our vows at a chapel in a small beach town
We filled our house with stolen hotel towels

It came from our heart
But our brains played a part
It came from my heart
But my brain played a part

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Haskel & Shorty - words by Sasha Mace www.myspace.com/83167497

Mild weather and warm hearts keep lost souls
searching for moderate climaxes
within the eco psychology of its rotting shell.

Knowing that moderation in a climatic series
is basically settling for a Ferris wheel
instead of the mean streak.

"you've been playing with the refrigerator magnets again, have'nt you?"
Haskel has a low but continual spoken vocal about him.
I reply, "yes and you 've been playing with matches."
He replies, "no this isn't a game I was trying to light your candles."

He wreathed his face in smiles, then stroked the irregular folds in my middle finger
and in a whisper promised he would always be here to light my cancer sticks.
I laugh, better lung cancer than cancer of the soul.

Haskel points out that our neighbors tomatoes are almost ready.
Ready for what? "Ready for picking"
And then? "And then."
I sigh with lack of interest to the course
in which you finally receive the produce on your table.

"And then ready for eating.'
Hurry up and wait.
"You seem to be very pessimistic these days."
Puff puff drag drag, smoke rolls over my now gray ridden hair.