Washed up or drip-dried? It’s late in life for passing time. False starts, missed marks, a broken stride (if you’re fine it’s fine). Stand by the nice try, or clarify if you’re scraping by. Sun bleached the beach run and out of light. Does patience hurt you? Taking steps to something small but over your head. Ancient virtues? Greasy dudes in platitudes were never my thing. Teenage curfew? Read the book, took the nap, and watched the rain after that. Fast food drive-thrus? Preference is the privilege we forgot how to name. Home brew pull through? You’re all I’ve got to feel about from now until I’m old. Tired tattoos? Thinking I should grab me some to share with the world. Asset values? Everyone’s a greedy shit; look at ‘em run, look at ‘em run! Tried my best at being a “man” all about it. Does anybody know what that means anyway? I guess some things are simply too hard to stand without, and others never go like you planned. Is that okay? Whatever works is worth its weight in pyrite, in whether you call me up or call it a day. But there’s never been a question: we were made to go together. Now is all I’ve ever wanted, and no, I don’t want nothing to change.
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