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2003-01-23 @ 8:04 p.m.
Tracy and I with Hangovers

For anyone who has ever had too much of a good thing.

Tracy and I with Hangovers or the Morning After:

Morning came while we were dancing,Music and freedom spread pherenomes

through the air, where we walked like Queens

We were forces unstoppable, irresistible,Men fell panting in our wake

No Prisoners were taken

Huddled over coffee,Cradled around the fumes,Letting the smell make its, Way up through the Cracks in, our skulls

Our whole bodies flinched inward,As a sharp finger nail simutainulously,Enters each brain through the ears,And Four barely open bloody eyes squish, tightly shut

"Good Morning" chirps our unsightly, saintly Mother

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