hamlet complex
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season of the surreal absurdist


It is summertime. It is three in the morning. The party is my only purpose. I am dancing with a mannequin come to life in the middle of a neon-bathed street while birds and pink Cadillacs whisper sweet nothings to one another about inter-dimensional travel and the fate of the universe. I see you and you smile at me with firecrackers in your mouth.

12 tracks
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