to feel that way that young lovers do

i'm not sure about mornings, not these days
i find my hours, uncertainly detained
thinking about long walks when i should be working
wondering about the green grass of new york parks
stiffling heat, humidity rages through everything
(except vegas) in the summertime
("the sweet sweet summertime").

2004-07-20 | 11:18 a.m.
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