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Sleepless

Good Weird

Autobiographical Poem



Got to Three Kings and things turned Jurassic
WarCraft, whatever, playing the classics.
Locked in a pig-sty, but Jeez, that took a while,
My skeletons were gone, but really, they were just hiding,
Locked in the back, compressed and they heard rifles.

So when Amtet came along, guitars and wrecked lyrics,
I thought it wasn’t proper to spit out my musings.
Fed by a Giant Bomb and a StarCraft
The last man alive and talk about minecraft
Ice bears, hippies and hats that didn’t fit.

The south harbor was new, I thought
Shit, huh, people are weird,
Stuttering at the worst timings,
Spotting screensavers of Geralt, alarm tones that Solid Snake fears,
I got ideas that places might be good weird.



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