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#1 (permalink) |
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It's in the breeze...
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With fuckin' Indiana. It is like a fuckin' blizzard outside. Where the hell did all this snow come from?
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the composer just went deaf.
the singer lost his breathe, in the glow of the crowd. the dancer's on a crutch. the writer drank to much. the director lost his touch. In the glow of the crowd. can you resist the urge to burn the script we wrote? |
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