Inevitable present; home to the indians today. I've learned my lessons, stopped playing music to the plastic poets in the rain. They've all found their way, like I did in time, but both of them couldn't be here to stay with me and write dark blue little lines. So I say: Yea! Don't mind the G. Everything you've got to say to me is face to face or else you'll just be like a wannabe on television that doesn't know the difference between a shoe and a lace. Love is secret, holy like the ace. Nobody needs permission. It's like switching a button. There's only one way out of the maze.
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Poem / Humor
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