March 27, 2009
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My great wall is crumbling at my feet
The great arch arrives on my darkened street
I can taste a bad mint on my tongue
Hometown heroes lift their weight when the bar bell’s rung

Basket Balloons seem to dominate
As the cycle is trying to go straight
That last shot put her over the clouds
Mighty thor throws his hammer to the ground


Ten is the number of the day
She wears the sock her father gave
Riding the water pole over hills
Jumping the fence in Guam just for thrills

Sail in green murky waters down south
Rows filled with children with dirty mouths
Please place your box around the block
It’s time to stand on the metal rock.


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