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And on the third day I told him I like the street lamp view from the window And I could hear his smile Through a chuckle of thick bush That will never sing in my ears again
The grey indifference between dusk and dawn If I listen closely, I can still hear his swan song Lonely as the sound of lying on the ground Where possibilities pool and dreamers go to drown
Without fail you cross my mind From time to time Spitting skeletal rhymes And climbing mountains in my head Here’s my letter to the dead
...he looks like a wet cat in the second pic, but anyhoots, Happy birthday to our boy!! ♥️🥳🥳
(Was gonna post something post something for Elvis' death yesterday, but I couldn't, sadly!)
ANYWHO….back to the birthday boy 🎂
Throwback to his interview magazine photoshoot 📸