Ode to ‘Your Rocky Spine’
You hear the framming and frailling of clawhammer banjo, you see St. Francis mindfully asleep on the upright bass, hear the brushes fall like wet snow on the sn...
You hear the framming and frailling of clawhammer banjo, you see St. Francis mindfully asleep on the upright bass, hear the brushes fall like wet snow on the sn...
Yeah, I live fairly close to the hipbone of culture. At least I can feel the haute from here. Not that this has anything to do with what I’m about to tell...