Rangoon. Remember Rangoon? It got to be so you would turn on the television and that is all you would hear; “Rangoon, Rangoon”.
Different voices call different gods. Different gods call different demons, but they are all one stripe as one God controls all. Even in lowly Rangoon where the watermelons grow. Cheese pizza pies on the window sill, cooling.
A rant, a rave, it was all she gave. We lived in the Bat-Cave but none of that could prepare us for what was happening in the outside world. It all went down man, like a golden galosh, slipping at the heel. Train wrecked beauty queen. I still love ya baby, even if the clowns don’t. We make a cool scene, peppermint all over and it’s gonna move ya. Of course we can’t sing like we used to in the kitchen, but the cheese pizza still made it through unscathed.
A few miles left for us to travel. A few more miles and we will be home. All of us. Yours too.