White, Mayer, and you

"Rich Kid Blues" Consolers of the Lonely, The Raconteurs.

Jack White, sexy. Check.

pink board shorts too old for one's drawer cling to the pasty sticky dryer sleeve,
cotton balls mouth balls hedonists balls blue balls
Lauren tennis sweaters purposely placed atop golf clubs and dandy granola, rich boys but something dirty.
SB's attack the gold chains and boards, smile at the wealth you sad sad face we like a random smirk.
All this drama all these watches all these sofas to lay, write, lay, play, lay, write down
Paper with dollar signs stuffed in the assistants wallet, shared success, sunshine.