| Kerouac yea Kerouac
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| His words the words so many words just
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| All brothers of the same horn sisters the saxophone
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| Notes music words a melody a quote a figure eight a figure
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| If you listen close to the drummer
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| It’s like a mirror and your invisible
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| Like your in a back seat
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| No handles on the doors just a beautiful driver up front
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| She knows where she’s going
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| Kerouac the observation machine
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| Caressing the most passing of scenes with photographic love
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| Passionate photographic love
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| Venerable as anyone knew
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| His memories pull shades up and down
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| Doors are not done telegrams arrive
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| Every morning something extra ???
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| Remembering everything like a snatch of melody
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| A drumbeat remembering mythologizing
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| So fast all the time moving
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| The words the words are drumsticks pounding out drum beats
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| Like a monk like a monk melody
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| With mistakes yea mistakes and sudden inspirations
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| Edges corners explosions convections
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| All fast through a slow motion landscape
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| Yea fast through a slow motion landscape |