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High Jinx Either they treed me, or I hid in the weed, or wash was my overcoat, or drink was my wish. Either they missed my face in the tea, or my stink in the hash, or my hand in the honeysuckle. I've" been wanted seven years, and wasted more; been burned, interred. Either they didn't fertilize me, or I turned to a desert rat; either I jumped ship or they dumped me; I was game or they shot my pool with lily-killer. Man. Either you used up your stunt juice or my antibody grew. 138 ...

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