excuse us if we taste bitter
your grief turned us winter
there's no where for us to turn
so why not just let it all churn, and burn
ride on, on our motorcycles of the mountain road
endlessly revving our engines, squashing toads
on the highway
with the red dawn to our backs
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A collection of brilliantly colored quasicrystals set in a lead copper alloy foundation located five thousand miles below the remote Japanese village of Sakae.
One of my eyeballs when I get mad
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