like a red state's baptist fervor. like a small town's unsolved murder. some secrets are just best resting in the tombs of buried thought-slums. as for texas: donuts only - you cannot find bagels here. and i'll reserve my highest hosannas
for the communion song that served with light beer
and a chorus that inspires the score played in my myth-steeped years. there's a hole you shan't fall into