TomFlannery.com

Ever feel like that beer in the bottom of the glass that the drunk guy leaves on the bar when he finally staggers towards the door?

‘Tis an interesting feeling. And not one very conducive to creativity.

Could be worse I guess. Some dreg could slide by when nobody’s looking and drink me.

Sitting here very early in the AM listening to a Son Volt record and thinking about all the things I need to do and how much it’s going to cost and wondering where the money is going to come from. I’m pretty sure people owe me some money but I keep lousy books. And I wait for checks to come in the mail and they never do. Everybody wants to give me credit though. It’s like they’re trying to tell me something.

The words need to come. Without them, the lack of funds is irrelevant. And worrying about one invariably hurts the other.

Wrote a lyric yesterday called “The Hidden”. It needs a tune. Maybe today. Unless those Ed McMahon people show up with cameras and that giant cardboard check. Then all bets are off.

In a bit…

–tf