Ring-a-ding-ding, it’s future o’clock. Get up, shake off the cobwebs, feel the morning. Night, you belong to the river, be dark. Wake up with a thousand sleeping culprits. I mean this wholeheartedly. Become an advantage. Be loose in the goosebox, bros. Put the cranium to major elasticity. Smack the canvas, drip the paint, boys.
Go find a large, long, deep rabbit hole and climb in and wear a suit on the other side, where butterflies alight off your fingertips and the sun is always behind you, all walking deep pavements and bottlecaps make tap-shoes of your feet.
I mean this. Endure the trials of malignation, be a raise of positivity. You feel me, dog.