Off the Cliff

Yesterday's prompt, because yesterday was an 8-6 day with a 30 minute break, supposed to be followed by the Christmas dinner I was too tired and achey to take myself to. Never mind that I'd been writing this since Monday. These things require time.

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Outside it snows. Inside I huddle in fearful apprehension and shuddering terror. My scars, let me show you them. So I shall meme, thanks to feliciter:

Put your MP3 player on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first is the title.

Thus I do what I've never done, and natter about music.
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