Just a barefoot, backwoods loon dancing from one dapple of sunlight to the next upon the crunchy forest floor of life. Care not a hoot for high-falutingness, just love the day, its tranquil twilight, and the reprise of treefrogs and cicadas late into the warm summer's night.
Well, it's been relisted. If there never were student Bach Cs, that would be a steal...
A trumpet's just a trumpet. The music's inside *you*.
If what I've posted offends you, please feel free to leave your need for validation below.
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