Long Story; Short Pier.

God, hes left as on aur oun.

Sweet Home Chicago.

Now six and two is eight, and eight and two is ten
Friend-boy, she trick you one time, she sure goin’ do it again
But I’m cryin’, hey hey, baby, don’t you want to go
Back to the land of California, to my sweet home Chicago

Actually, I was listening to something else entirely when I heard the news.

Fly us to the moon
High above our upturned faces
Booming in the bright
Send some good things down on this earth tonight

Maybe tomorrow I’ll find my get up and go. At the moment it’s done got up and went.

—Filed 7904 days ago to Squawkbox.

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