bissonnet in the dead of summer. dreary and bleak. hotter than hell. a photobooth snapshot fading. there ain't too much left. just enough to forget. remember pipe bombs bursting in air. that mailbox is going down. exploring buildings abandoned for years. and ghost stories...all night long. man, that street goes on for ages. block after block, an asphalt eyesore. but we both knew nothing better back then. a half-tank of gas and a couple of good friends. a photobooth snapshot fading away