<center>DEAD HEAD</center>
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Through the sodden dark nights and days of the Pacific Northwest forest black despondent sounds caress our consciousness, like night pressing down on our lives. Our thoughts all robbed by dimming light, the trees they whisper winters soul, our minds all a mist of autumns ghost. We ask you to come, alone for us to dream of you listening under our caress of agony.
Journey To The New Home by Dead Head Olympia
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DeadHead42069666@gmail.com

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