How To Eat the Sun
Memo to self: eat the sun
Money don't run down ski slopes
Human breathe might be cosmic
There's no telling what we'll do
Telegram to flag:
Patriotism is native like tobacco leaves
Stars will always shine
Streaming through marching ballads
Dreaming time to waking eyes:
The sound is not the form
It's just pleasure on the tongue
Make your kitchen a devil palace
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