This town on a Sunday is a used condom filled with regrets, hangover vomit, and lost opportunities. But at least its a little quieter as everyone sleeps off their shame and repairs their broken bedroom doors... Spackle the wall with your wasted dreams and patch up your mind with false hopes for next weekend. Life sure is a journey and I hope not to repeat the repetitions that are already reiterating themselves. What am I gonna do tonight? Something more positive. Oh well... its all good in the end, and I'm having a good old laugh about it now!
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