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I herd these sheep in the silence of the lambo I process trees into paper, smokin' ammo A solo man on a mission like I'm rambo Ernst and Young's got my ***** laundry handled. I can tell you ride high In Telluride skies As the crow flies From a perch with wide eyes Pour out a fifth of Bacardi When you're surrounded by lies Flush them out like John Gotti Ice picks their demise. Yea, rest in peace You heard me twice, I didn't blink Counting sheep Your contract's ceased, I signed the ink Time to sleep I raise a glass to have a drink I kissed your cheek Rats don't have time to think. I can tell you ride high In Telluride skies As a crow flies From a perch with wide eyes Pour out a fifth of Bacardi When you're surrounded by lies Flush them out like John Gotti Ice picks their demise.
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May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
Telluride High
Bleeding November Cannot remember What happened Hands blackened By October paint Then I faint For it remembers not why Still, it is shy A small, weakened cry Bursting into the night O what a fright Taking grand flight Interesting confusion A mild intrusion Seeping into the mind Creeping up behind Then Boo! Shoo, Foul beast! Let us feast, In peace! - Jay M November 12th, 2019
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 1:02 PM UTC
Bleeding November