Sawtelle new moon may seem to nest near misty trees, turn on more streets
See, tonight might mend some torn names
No more sad tales, true now more still
Sigh to near miss, muse saw things now
Noon, my slight touch: two nice men sing
Sad till next month, more sun trying, not missin' town, tiny music
So, try normal
More sweet time now
Needs must slide through, to know myself
Sawtelle new moon may seem to nest near misty trees, turn on more streets