Fine time in headlights. We sink further until she finds us. Drenched with wet sex,we head uptown , upstate, upland and finally upon pine forests sinking in a gradual shift north and east, north again until the Rains. Please reign in that guitar, Southerners, they tell us, though we fail to mention an older version -- B-Side from the nineties -- that offer everything recorded in the West underclassman gymnasium. One of us knew Live. The others, a fucked up situation, and guitars among them all. Hello, Leslie.
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