The Liberal Party

The party passed its' stupid phase
We talked out all the mys
I leaned across the wine and pretzels
Into her marijuana eyes.
You're new from here
She smiled I heard it seemed
Tonight she thought let's walk
The moon it's good to talk
Polite, in guarded plastic sighs
The stars, the wolves, and other highs...
Why not? Where's love? New rock?
It's cool. Great night. What thighs.


Marcel Debreuil

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