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Songs

From inside of cars
Parked on lonesome
Sidewalks
You yell
Words that you just made up
And mix them with the
Strings of an out-
Of-tune guitar.
You don't care what
The song says, or who you
Sing it to.
We come by, Guy
After Guy,
To listen and be gone.
You don't care
You just call us names when we
Leave.