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fly by july nights standards
where you deal what you’ve been handed
im doing alright
standing on a terrace watching the damage that a single firework might do
feeling familiar
like it used to be inside you
the imprints left is simply smoke that used hide you
and the sky is all sorts of orange
like a twilight
and on top of skyskraper you’d think i live the high life
instead a low life with 20/20 hindsight
no mate I think i might be closer to my mid life
nip the crisis in the bud now by staring the tiger in his iris
hoping I’ll have something to show for it
using broad brush strokes and a highlighter
to colorĀ  in the individual windows
so they can seem brilliant against the palette of a cloudless american city
humbled but not powerless
never one for piety so IĀ  am bow less
full of mess before but these days Ive been boweless
in a recession, the most practical way to save on moist towelleites
need to save face
quit dreaming
need to save on car insurance
quit drinking
thats the way we get by
tryin to make sense out of exactly why when we sprinkle just a hint of fire in the sky
well feel inclined to have warm blooded body at our sides
feeling familiar
like it used to be inside of you
of vice versa if u get what i’m implying too
and as you can see
there’s a fair amount of ass you can see
and im absolutely absent the ability to think
tactfully and act older than an adolescence seen without his towel in the locker room of his bad dreams
so i play the role of the king with the billy club
they call these clubs chic but i still smell the shitty musk
and as i speak colloquially the sun beats over the miles between
a city and another city
miles between you and i feeling all the more silly
standing on a terrace watching the sky come to an end
with a warm blooded body there
unfamiliar as fuck
as all the lucky highlighted windows
prepare to say goodnight to one another

Silver Light

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