My muse is the shattered door frame
it's the workshop below my feet
the car in the garage which no longer runs
It's this house
this living breathing home
where the walls moan and groan with life
this living breathing home
where you must climb through Narnia to get to your room
This living breathing home
filled with every character you could imagine
gangsters
businessmen
Skaters
FBI
rockers
nerds
jocks
goths
Interrogators
stoners
Girls with sharpie eyebrows
even normal people
You don't need a muse
just a home




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