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Toenails
I look down at my right foot
To see that the Toenails are painted, My raw left hand holds my cigarette. My face is painted vivid violet, but I did do that myself. The bar fight was won and lost in some seconds He pissed me off, and I was drunk Or maybe I was drunk and he pissed me off But I gave him a good one, Straight to the nose, His retaliation was that of a lucid alcoholic, Sluggish and trained well in the art. Unfortunately he slipped Onto his chin And that was the end of that. |
