To Bukowski and Hard Times.
There's a part of me, deep inside, a bluebird, perhaps That sways while the world burns To a waltz that no one else can hear but me. In spite of all the terror and fear and anxiety in my world Since the world is ending, I'm throwing the party. Dance with me. Dance for you. Dance, dance. For three minutes. One side of the vinyl. Sell more of them if you do - Dance. Even though the world is falling down around you. Cry those alligator tears from your brown eyes while the pain weeps from the soles of your feet The ones that keep you moving forward, never back When shit goes down, mo bounce. I'm tired of relinquishing my power to an automated computer program who can eliminate me from the stack, Saying I'm not worth the time. Overqualified to live the life that I deserve. Life is cold but all I see is gold on the hour when the sun sets in the desert of my heart. They say the good die young, so I'll keep dancing. There's nothing left to do now, but Dance.
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