Just think long highways, country flowers and tears of men. There's nothing like the music that springs up from the land as if after a rainshower and hovers around with sweeps and fade-away pullbacks. So much strain. So much release.
The song "Jesus (Don't Touch My Baby)" is just how California should be.
Thick and rosy smoke, keeping your chin up, playing cards now and again -- and taking your chances at the bar. Let's not forget to let the morning sun ride our hearts with its flare, staring on through reflections, out past sandy beaches and into a sparkling mist...
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