with a running bass that can't keep pace
and a dirty drummer all over the place
a guitarist who's missing some strings
and howling girl who continues to scream
the crowd gathered round the open bar
we're gonna get big but won't go far
drop the sound now the pedal still pounds
punch the air until you knock out crowns
now it's dark and the music is slow
the ride is over but you don't have to go
if you scream for our names you know
we're gonna play more
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My writings and poems
I don't think i'm a good writer. I don't even think I'm good at anything, and if you want to waste your time reading these so called 'poems' go right ahead. I'm just sorry they're not as great as I would like them to be.
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