The rainclouds' sweet crackle and glaze
In the sunset's soft and silver rays
Surely sets me back a few days.
It's the warmth of familiarity,
Old-time hilarity.
An assault of spastic contractions
From unrecognizable actions
Leave me on the main drag,
Post-party promenade mystery bag.
I'm your purebred airhead waiting at the door
Wide-eyed with relief because I needed
Some more,
More of this...
I needed my fix.
So fix me on your nightstand
And give me your hand
And tell me if you don't understand
That so easily,
And so clear to me,
I can picture every one of them I know
Dragging their sacks of unwonted sorrow
And all that I can say is "You're gonna carry that weight."
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