I remember waking up from a nap on a weekend, going to the front window in our house, and staring out at my dad working the yard in the sun. I don't know how old, but I swear I was in diapers (I don't think people remember that far back, but I could swear).
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Life is just blah, blah, blah
You hope for blah
And sometimes you find it, but mostly it's blah
And waiting for blah
And hoping you were right about the blahs you made
And then, just when you think you've got the whole blah'd damn thing figured out
And you're surrounded by the ones you blah
Death shows up... anddd blah, blah, blah.
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