Dearest K. I still admire your portrait, even from the deepest gloom of my prison cell. It's helped me get over, many a night, my love.
I know I have your heart, no matter where you may go.
"And many miles to go. Many miles to go."
I had thought that you all would camp out on the living room floor watching Shrek 3 or Black Panther or Spiderman Far From Home. I don't know what's right. I get Netflix here. The guards chuckle about the 15 thousand dollar bill that the institution gets for our entertainment, but we're otherwise a very dullardish people, you understand.
Musta been a bad time
to smell the rain
to be in love.
I do drugs with the girl that I'm talking about
I burn Escalades in the night.
I'm in county and I can't get out,
my heart is hers and there can't be no doubt.
I'm sure you and the little dears passed out into unconsciousness with the 10000 BTU spitting ice and the movie just getting good, Flash hitting the multiverse and all, Michael Keaton showing up. I woulda woke yall up for that, bebe.
No that my heart roams no further than your doorstep, or maybe the lean-to on the back of the trailer, there and no further.
Of the pizza what he remarked, "Look what they did to my combination pizza."
Someday I will ask you to do a favor, and when they day comes, ignore the distant thunder, for it is the sound of hot vengeance raining down.
I smell the rain, smell the rain, smell the rain....
Musta been a bad time
to be in love
a bad time
to be in love
a bad time
to be in love.
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