Death is coming. The offseason is Lit.
Look to the gallows. The offseason is Lit.
Jump? Let’s jump? Yes. Maybe. If we can. But we are tired. And Kid Rock approaches. Let’s rest. The offseason is Lit.
Enemies. Spies. Are they not ourselves? Are they not one in the same? Are they not asking us to Let’s jump? The offseason is Lit.
You will never see every color. The offseason is Lit.