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Our Own Bossa Nova
Away from the carbon dioxide and the clatter of the city and the citizenry sleepwalking. Away from the mainstream and their need to know. Now breathing fresh air from the manifolds in the trees. No rabbit hole to hide in or Johnny B. Goode in Police uniforms to issue citations. Now smitten by Mother Nature and comfortable in our skin. Playing our own Bossa Nova. Living life with the luxury of not stepping on a fool's toe.
No need for mascara to hide the fault lines. Victoria's Secret would have to reinvent itself. Porn would follow in the footsteps of the Edsel. Taming the shrews who live in plexiglass houses. Common sense becoming the new normal and we would unite as a species instead of running up and down the streets, screaming hate. They are the eunuchs that take up my space.
No need for mascara to hide the fault lines. Victoria's Secret would have to reinvent itself. Porn would follow in the footsteps of the Edsel. Taming the shrews who live in plexiglass houses. Common sense becoming the new normal and we would unite as a species instead of running up and down the streets, screaming hate. They are the eunuchs that take up my space.
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