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When the crickets fly over the moon shine I will lay in fields of sunshine and rhinestone and chill me to the bone and the stone my Dave Matthews lullaby bye bye bye n’sync and crazy for your little crouching tiger and hidden monkey and donkey talking walking breathing life into me like a prayer your voice will take me there and lift me up when I’m falling 40 days with or without you, I can’t live, U2 and UB40 and in the springtime of his voodoo with headless chickens and spastic women and rain falling on my face, traces of you, traces of blue without a clue, you are my glue. My poo...