What does it all mean?
Listen, there are sometimes, fun times, but mostly sunshines, I’ve spelled out all the people’s names in my past rhymes, but I’m done, the machines on empty, memory almost full like Sir Paul McCartney, and I can’t see past this red urgency, the sudden state of manufactured emergency, if we live are we alive, or does it all come down to being defined by how we die?
I’ve been writing a lot lately. A time of enlightenment?
-Stefan
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