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Lights out in the garage. Cigarette-billowed smoke pluming storm clouds that are etched by neon green and purple rave-lazars. Tall-boys of -Loko being crushed by the numbers. Slime green lighters falling out the hole in your nylon cargo pocket from erratic knee-jerking movements. Whole-body sweat making the 3D alien shirt stick to your body. Dancing the gabber until ya fists and feet fling from your body. The green is in every last MONIDOME 420 beat:
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