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The Lounge: 6/18 (FOUR GAME WIN STREAK!)

Outside, the street's on fire in a real death waltz
Between what's flesh and what's fantasy
And the poets down here don't write nothing at all
They just stand back and let it all be

And in the quick of the night
They reach for their moment and try to make an honest stand
But they wind up wounded, not even dead
Tonight in Jungleland