La salle de couvée

Head phones on my ear, wires everywhere Bjork's weirdness enthrall's me "I'm a tree of hearts, one for each that you take" the bachelorette. Fragile isn't she? All alone. Again. I'm still searching. The overcast clouds do naught to improve my mood Mom says it is unfair to brood, people are forced to watch me pout, and slouch about Sick self pity it does preserve my dignity though small. I listen to the winds constant wailing and decide it's time I stopped wallowing