BARS

I got bricks stashed in the Panzer tank, rolling over your hood like Hoobastank, stuffing my pockets with the vault from Fulton Bank. Every immortal knows where I rank. Stripes on my shoulders because I moved boulders to stay true to my friend and ooze these words from my pen. All day moving in One Direction seatbelted up for your protection, flyer miles more frequent than Harry Styles. Spilled mics calling for cleanup in every aisle.