The people who live here

Man, they really don’t see… Why this Dead End is beautiful, to me.

Suspicious sounds abound in the wooded skirts of the streets I creep.

Waiting for her. Always happy to wait for her.

It’s a charm, and it’s a mystical vibe, but the people who live here,

Man, they really don’t know… There’s a peace rising from the asphalt of this Dead End.

There’s a joy. I am always waiting for her.

I’m imagining… Suspicious sounds surround my head.

I’m cool. I’m happy, wherever I travel. I find the ferrous filter of the air to be

Just a little romantic. It speaks so loudly, to me. The people who live here don’t even know.

Or aren’t they the spirit of this place? I’m allowed to think so, I think.

Here she comes. I’m so happy.

“I will be patient with you.” A suspicious sound, it tosses in the leafy edges of her sweet, brown frontier. 

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