He pours the wine into his coffee cup
His gin has dropped
It's time to pick it up
Too fed, he rose out of his bus and left
Tearin' slow he's barkin' something crass
Each night a thousand stairs go up both ways
So incur the bee get through his sleeves
Elms down at the coast it's too late for Buster's ride
Slide down to his headphones
Sleeps till sallow mind
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