Waters said to the Hippi on that Stow this is the days of the Sewage of the Tides,
as that was the Scent of a Sailors knows to the Times on the Charts that date,
To tangles of combed the Lore eased of Known that Gentrification is the drowning of lunged,
the Lagoon in Speculated as the Photograph shown,
To dig on that ski the Boats on the float a Surf that says Sure like Deodarant got Soap,
the shower of a Grace to bang the Can Knew to a Grow Sir its a Shell Station on that Band Snoop,
as just this A.M. rather last Knight on the Clue,
My Big Brother Eddie not the Holding Company but Alive,
I saw him and Tick with a brilliant Vibrant walk,
I waltzed my smile to the tickle that I grew,
as this Ain't the Bads its the Chills of a Grand,
piano my mother the organist of sway,
to swoon is that sun light the bulb is light to hand!!
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