monday is for drinking to the seldom seen kid.

We Don’t Eat - James Vincent McMorrow

the same old lines, the same old stories,
of breathless trains and worn down glories.

89/365

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    Melts my heart and gives me goosebumps, every time.
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    We don’t eat until your father’s at the table and we don’t drink until the devil’s turned to dust
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    Am I an honest man and true? Have I been good to you at all? Oh I’m so tired of playing these games We’d just be running...
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