Into It. Over It.
Into It. Over It. - Wicker Park lyrics
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As you know me, you know I like to keep my chatting short and sweet. It's really for the sake of who's listening. Typically, when I'm long-winded, it's pretty lame. But as opinions bleed out, I'll make it quick before your records wear out- I'll raise my voice on the subject of subtle sounds and talk your ear off to a point of ironic interest - early '60s portraits through antique rooms. You say, "This could be you, Columbia aught 62, all dolled-up in a blue classic background. And this could be me, Atlantic, aught 63, in a suit poised alone, I spin solos as stories." But you and I could never be that lavish. It's a point of ironic interest towards early '60s portraits through antique rooms.