Hangman, hangman, hold it a little while, I Think I see my friends coming, Riding a many mile.
me at 19, incredibly baked from the blunt that was rolled on halloween but was lost in one of the many pockets of my army costume, found a month later then we walked from little italy to roncesvalles, stoned on hash. that mural’s been painted over. remember that day sheckie?
bye.
