The television is a confused old man.
He's way too cold and cool to shake your hand.
His giant jaw clacks and falls open spraying you with
Arrogant delight.
A bomb kills!
A home team scores tonight!
Constantly evading in lies and rules for subliminal eyes you taught us to live by.
We will go to a retirement home for a day.
I will pack a tuna sandwich with a little red apple.
If it is closed you can still stay and wait on the side of the road.
Smell the burning rubber and listen to the distant engine thunder.
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