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About Cologne

Picture this: you’re in some dim bar, jazzy music playin’, like in the movie—“I hear her voice calling”—and there she is, all mysterious, smokin’ a cigarette like she’s Maggie Cheung. You’re nervous, sweatin’ bullets, thinkin’, “Am I cool enough for this?” Pro tip: cash only, no cards—don’t be that idiot leavin’ a paper trail. And don’t haggle like a cheapskate—pisses me off when dudes do that. Have some class, ya dope! I mean, “The air is full of madness,” right? That’s the thrill—danger, secrets, the whole shebang.

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Down by the Schwenninger Moos, the river kinda twists, like my thoughts sometimes. There’s a lil bridge, Bruh, over the water, where time slows down, and you hear your heart. Already, my mind’s whirling with that movie vibe – “I could die happy knowing that she believed in me.” Sappy? Maybe, but true.

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