it's funny that i'd forget these drives. the slow, stretched out glides through a sleeping town. the empty roads, the tired eyes, taking every long route home i can think of, every back road i can think of, dragging out every moment into all that i can. breathing deep. slowing to near stops on the darkest stretch between kyle's house and mine, just
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And every part of it is something which has repeatedly crossed my mind in one way or another throughout the years. Beautiful.
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here's hoping you're coming to the show with us sunday.
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