kindness – swinging party

Mine is old and faded and yellow stitched with maroon seams, bell shaped, drum shaped jewel, protecting me from the blond beams, without ribbons or mosaics just the spirit of the bell bottom seventies, no iridescent colors for butterfly flaps, no rhinestone cowboy for cowboy effects, just the simple shade carried in the hands of the sideways, Friday hall of fame, where is the never ending party, the never ending crime, to pass my shade when the city’s finest come calling my name, it’s my time?



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