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its those all too princely beats, isnt it?
with that almost drawn-on cabaret dancer's moustache, you can see 'the former artist' standing in the doorway to his studio, dressed in a luxurious dressing gown made from velvet, silk and ermine, smoking a cigarello as the husky man mountain that is kerry king gets to grips with herbie's hancock.
and then they jam, accapella, as the kif gently smokes in the chimneyless fireplace in the corner and the room becomes thicker and thicker with almsot chewy sweet smoke... |
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