all its magic... all its magic... all its magic... all its splendor.. all its mystery and wonder... mushroom jazz. the weather is almost nice enough. to open windows that don't close all the way and for OUR house i don't want the hurricane to crush us, but i also do not want to come to work tomorrow; i'd rather not be here today either, but mushroom jazz is skipping, that's allright, i'm not too fond of that song. three years ago i was at home, an impromptu trip as the smoke cleared and national security floated away with it and three years later where are we hm this would be somewhere else; somewhere you never would have seen it trying to jump start like pouring cocacola on the battery on a chilly december morning before school twenty minutes late already and i was thirsty but i guess i didn't need that soda anyway long as hands clap on. snare drums snap on mmmmm seeking my own design i make it seem so one minute more and then i go back to the floor
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