Cats Eat Tinsel, I Do This

I am without lid.

I've flipped my lid.

My lid is gone. My lid has gone away.

I slept with one lid open.

My lid is over there someplace. Over the rainbow maybe.

Everyone must pop their own lid.

Put a lid on it.

The first one to open the lid and get the peanut butter.

I was talking up my man George and he says he's so old he remembers when you could score a lid for forty dollars.

They kept a tight lid on it.

I need a lid remover.

The paint color is on the lid.

He cracked him on the lid.

When one door closes, another opens. But when one lid closes, that's it.

Eyelids are doors.

As you can see, one thing lids to another.

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I love the music of Carla Bley.



Only thirty more days. Even less if you live in Minnesota.