Listening to No One's Here To Sleep.
Music isn't music until it transports you elsewhere. The beats so sultry, they make you the protagonist in a narcissistic, but oh-so-passionate play. Because hey, peaches and cream, hunky dory and white picket fences don't lend themselves to stories worth remembering. We need an epic, don't we?
Naughty Boy, you made me wanna write. Who would have thunk it?
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