In celebration of the passing of storms,
I close my blinds when the sun comes out
and continue my dimly lit escapades down neon pads
& yellow stationary fields
Paternal naysayers have been attempting
to barter the sanity of offspring
and their chosen path to succeed groovy individualism
The heights of unintroduced brothers reached in ‘01 now seem attainable
The Blues-printed the story underneath it all and Latimore sings
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