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RubberSoul in Poetry & Free Verse

Just Kids

Stumbled in the neon grove

We were chasin' the dream

While Beer chased Tequila

Thus the night was born

Location and intent may vary

Regardless, the vice grips tight

No chance for sensible thought here

No chance, we've taken flight

The money is low, possessions are few

These we don't need, just foreign land to run to.

-RubberSoul