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Array
(
[sid] => 132463
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Miss Annastacia Vent
[time] => 2007-03-07 03:53:34
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Miss Annastacia Vent, the forests ran dry All the medicine men come just to keep us alive There’s a shadow in the ground and it’s calling our name With human features present but all darkness and pain And it plays the accordion it puncture’s the keys Then hums out your heart by the air of a breeze Hartford’s on fire, New Havens gone wrong The hills grasses are whistling and they chant you along Annastacia swings swiftly through the park’s gray trees As they bleed through roots and shelter with leaves Fortune gets met by the sounds of her steps, Her borrowed velveteen jacket covers all the regrets Night rapes us all, it penetrates the white You were just a stranger in the eye of the light But now you’re a portrait in the form of a venture A cause on the hospital bed from common procedure And the cats cry your name, Hollywood retraces your steps Miss Annastacia vents, she vents, she vents We call on you suffered, your feature’s like the Fall Your changing color, composure and all Wanting your movements to change by the flight of our whims But Spring was never your heart it’s the brown, red and yellows we’re in They say though, that it’s the most beautiful of changes Dead leaves, the cold frosting over, it’s your mind like the seasons Miss Annastacia Vent, your Connecticut winter is near But in our baby blue mittens we wouldn’t rather be anywhere [comments] => 0 [counter] => 155 [topic] => 73 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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