Future Clouds And Radar
Where's My Drink
Two girls playing checkers in a deep wood lotTen million in their rooms are getting oldWas somebody loaded?I should've voted, I thinkI feel like explodingSomebody hold me downAnd where's my drinkI keep waiting for the goods to pitchLast gentleman to jump the ditchThat elegance in my last wishWith good old, do some digging that way
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