Dre-e-e-e-em, Dream, Dream, Dream

Saw a photo of myself
taken at a recent going
away party for us and
sent via e-mail. Yikes.
In horror, I saw the guy
who can’t possibly be
me. Why do I keep see-
ing, in my dreams, that
I am a handsome, thirty-
three-year-old me? Even
Don Everly is getting
old and a bit broad in
the beam. Yeah, but
still, he does have all
his own hair it would
seem.

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