This song is really beautiful.
If you choose to listen to this
and watch the accompanying
images, imagine finding those
models in a dimly lit basement
with wood paneling walls and a
corner of the room has tennis
shoes in it.
No socks near by. Just tennis shoes.
Things are always tacitly creepier
when links in the chain of reason are absent.
No socks. Just shoes. Some old. Some new.
It's the perfect tune for
a porch under
Spanish Moss, gritting
at the sand in
your teeth
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