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Blowing fire through the hillside Pelting wings stuck to quicklime Smashing nobody's headlights Nothing tells us we're alive Bernie's got the way to feel good times She lives on the way to the park All we've got to do is just drop by We don't have to

Sent away to have my Head checked No more playing In the sand Frogs are leaping off My brainstem They don't seem To understand Roadside blurs against A big bus Face is slouched against The glass I am headed for A cleansing In a room without a bath Di