NEWLETTER FROM COLIN'S COZY COUNTRY COMFORT SOUL FOOD KITCHEN
CONFUSION WILL BE MY EPITAPH
The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
Confusion will be my epitaph
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh
But I feel tomorrow I’ll be crying.
But I feel tomorrow I’ll be crying.
Knowledge is a deadly friend
If …
