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A hay-fever fever-dream sent me this one while speed-balling on allergies and caffeine. What a way to be.
iodine and cigarettes
call me when there’s nothing left
the summer sun is beating like a drum
me and mine are out again
forget me when I call my friend
when I come home, you shut me out a bum
and I could hold it for another evening
but I know we’ll be here again
so hold the door and blast a hole up through the ceiling
let stars illuminate and end
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