bury the lede (and the lead)

it begins with

get off my island

passes through euphonic perfection for

beware the Johnny Cash poster
hanging on the cellar door

swings around a cul-de-sac of

no more masks

pauses for a layover of false alarms at

last stop Van Cortlandt Park
242nd Street

charges ahead over

you can all go
look at the fuckin’ stars

makes a u-turn at

Central Park car free

speeds up to capture

Papa aren’t you gonna buy me
a skunk lock

slows down to record

are you experienced
with Rhode Island lowlands

crosses a bridge after

the caterpillar does all the work
but the butterfly gets all the publicity

reaches its destination just in time for

how many more signs do you need

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