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Putting Some Miles On another day older, and all i seem to be left with is my past to consider. a consolation, i put on the cool jazz and it takes me back in time to the time when miles said "don't fear mistakes- there aren't any." that's right he did, you remember that? the katydid and in the background she rosins up her wings, picking up his tune, and it takes me back to that warm night in june when all she could say was "yes" and all i could think was "yes" and now she's gone while i'm here and it's now and this sucks- i feel i must have gotten lost somehow in the melody of "remember the time" stuck somewhere in that last line that plays over and over and over again another day tries to get in but that door's closed, man those windows are barred. and i'm heading over to the nearest bar, because sobriety is shit without serenity, and life means nothing to me without her to share it with. mistakes? there are none. there's just this. you're all out there stretching your necks to lend us your ear, but all we smell is the fear. davis. piņero. basquiat. they knew what they were doing. cool jazz short eyes & canvas smothered by a dope fiend's cries. you know, none of this can bring you back- you never get another first time.
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