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I grew up with a cemetary at the top of my street. Twas a really old one too. (Well as old as you can get burying white people in the USA. Our British friends might scoff, and rightly so).
Anyway... It was the first place I ever smoked pot. It was also a cool reserve for graveyard dirt...a delightful but morbid magickal component.
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By the time you're twenty-five they will say you've gone and blown it. By the time you're thirty-five I must confide you will have blown them all
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