Nothing is as tedious as the limping days,
When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways,
And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom,
Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom
“Splits like Spotify numbers A whole lotta green, just me and the punter Down for the team, saying all the right things But feeling like Harden on the Thunder“
billy woods | “Paraquat”
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