It's another backyard recording of a song I wrote - this one for President Trump.  As angry and as reckless as a toddler with a gun, s...

      “Ed Wood stole four hundred dollars from me and I want it back.”      This is how he comes to me, standing at my door at just after t...

       I am a paradox version of myself – mournful and brokenhearted, anticipating and owning the heaven of perfect love. Slumbering and ove...

 This is a quick, lofi recording of a song I wrote on my way home from church this morning.  Selah (Psalms Unnumbered) Now the chaos an...

  Swift motion and cold night air. I am awake and dark sleep forward now and live hard. Speak soft and sober. It’s almost a dream, a recover...