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( discovering cheep greens in crooks with boys)


I live for the fear of you.

flamed hot burning glass

2 am tunes from my brothers unlawful piano causing a lost C note in my head,

repeating - down, down, down

through carpools with beloved friends and caramel lattes that cause the panic attacks,

I patternize your crooks, highs, and boys

where they stay low and where they grow some kush; 

to figure where your green comes cheap,

and where it is purely dried up leaves.






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