Oily tarmac shimmers in the limpid heat
Could see a hundred miles if it weren't for the ozone fog
Nothin's gonna rise to prominence
Without gettin' beat down by that flatland smog
While once green plants sulk by the side of the road
Slowly dying
And the kids know they gotta roam
Not much left to hold 'em here
But stoic dalliance or listless fear
Slowly dying
MESSAGE THREAD
Not Much · 04-23-07 10:48pm by A Non-Existent User
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