Thursday, September 11, 2003

the drugs were great, a town in 1967. the town was red and green and blue and yellow, which is terrible and wild. the drugs came from heaven or the stars and were timely, were song and rich. we were great in town, in drugs and talking to aliens. the aliens came from star dust and when green and blue the day was wary but we loved. we grooved and edged and trust me, there was white. white came from the stars and was running, jumping, it was rain. rain was drug and we knew it, sang along. it was very good drugs that day, a whole summer, every lifetime. it was gracious, you could have been there, but high and pond water reflected. there was a river, a rain, more drugs than heaven, and a day. we were rich, a town called 1967, I think, I was there, a rich drug town. there was something worth the price of war, or no war, or meant to be part of a system that was hands. hand the drugs to your neighbour, be your neighbour. it was today, is even now the best green and blue and red and yellow. just read along like the wild.

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